


The Fox & The Wolf

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Hawksong, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fox Stiles, Full Shift Foxes, Full Shift Werewolves, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, Minor Cora Hale/Isaac Lahey, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Non-Canonical Character Death, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Past Character Death, Past Derek Hale/Paige, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Pining, Prince Derek, Prince Stiles, Sexual Content, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 79,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.</p><p>Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.</p><p>For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.</p><p>[<strong>Update:</strong> I'm stating here, because some people aren't reading the author note at the beginning, this story was inspired by/based on Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' <em>Hawksong</em>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Death of an Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> So much to say. I've been wanting to do a Royal AU for such a long time, and someone suggest that I try my hand in the Alpha/Beta/Omega Universe, and I couldn't separate the two. This story was inspired by/based on Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' _Hawksong_. This means that there will be similarities and that the first chapter is going to seem like a rip off. However, it has been five years since I read this book (doesn't stop the fact that I **KNOW** I am using the entire concept of the book). It's a wonderful book and I highly recommend that you read it, especially if you love opposites attract.
> 
> Note that tags are subject to change. Other than that, enjoy!

Stiles knew he was being stupid. He knew that it didn’t matter that he was the one that found the young Alpha. Didn’t matter that he had no weapon on him. He couldn’t tear himself away, though, even when Scott tried to reason with him.

Stiles continued to cradle the young Alpha’s head in his lap as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, a weak attempt to comfort her. He knew he would never forget her eyes, the way she stared up at him, silently pleading for the pain to go away. Beautiful kaleidoscope green eyes stared up at him as their owner struggled to speak.

“I wish I could take your pain.” Stiles wasn’t sure why he was admitting it, but he felt like he had to try and help her. It was the first time in his life that Stiles wished he was an Alpha, able to transfer someone’s pain to himself.

The Alpha struggled to speak, wincing when a sharp pain radiated from her abdomen. She gurgled as blood pooled into her lungs, suffocating her. “My family … ”

Stiles only nodded, not knowing how he would even find her family.

“Tell them …” The Alpha closed her eyes tightly as she fought to finish. “Lo … Love them. Tell Derek … Sorry.”

Stiles nodded to her. “I’ll tell them. I promise.”

“Th … ank you.” A small smile crossed her lips. She struggled as she moved her hand up. She was reaching her hand up at Stiles, and he knew what she wanted. Stiles didn’t hesitate as he slipped his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers together. He felt a small piece of metal between their palms, realizing that she was offering him a token to keep his word by. He continued to run his other fingers through her hair, trying to coax her through the pain.

Stiles could hear the cries of the battle far away from them, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t move her and there was no way he would leave her behind. It just felt wrong to leave someone dying alone and scared, in a place that wasn’t home. Stiles recalled his mother’s passing, how he spent days as a fox, sleeping curled up at the foot of her bed in an attempt to stay with her. He knew when she had passed, the hand gently stroking his fur suddenly falling limp, a final breath escaping between her lips before nothing. The room was silent, absent of the comfort her heartbeat gave Stiles. Stiles remained silent, keeping his head in his mother’s lap as he squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to not notice her passing. He thought if he ignored what he knew, it could change the outcome. He whimpered when he felt a pair of strong, familiar arms lift him from the bed and carry him out. _Alpha. Home. Dad._ He turned his head, hiding his face away from the world as he pressed into his dad’s neck.

“I got you, kiddo. I got you,” his father’s voice was heavy, fighting against breaking.

It soothed another whine from Stiles’ throat. Stiles recalled wishing that he could believe his father.

Stiles knew the young woman past away when the strength left her fingers like his mother’s did, her hand slowly slipping out of his. He looked down at her, her eyes open and staring up at him, the life they brimmed with seconds ago was completely gone. The small smile still graced her lips, thankful that Stiles promised to keep her last request.

“Stiles,” Scott’s voice held the obvious concern. If the crowned fox prince was found with a dead Alpha wolf’s head resting in his lap, the wolves would go berserk. And who knows what they would do to him as retribution if they got their hands on him.

“We can’t just—”

“They would leave one of us here,” Scott reasoned with him. “You comforted her until her passing. You owe her nothing more.”

“Scott, I owe everybody something,” Stiles bit out, as he gently closed the woman’s eyes. He eased her off of his legs, setting her body down on the ground, folding her arms across her chest before standing.

“Stiles, you aren’t responsible for this war,” Scott reasoned with him.

Stiles was ignoring Scott as he stared down at the pendant the dead Alpha had pressed into his palm earlier. “Scott,” he spoke his name with concern.

“Stiles, I’ve told you—”

“Stop being a stupid Alpha for a second and help me,” Stiles retorted as he looked from the woman to Scott.

“What?” Scott asked in confusion.

“The Hale crest. What is it?” Stiles asked.

Scott stared at Stiles, his normal puppy eyes being hidden by his furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, a triskelion. Three spirals gathered together as one.”

Stiles looked back at the young Alpha’s body, fear falling over him. “She’s a Hale,” the words were hollow and silent as he spoke them, but they held the full weight of the consequences for what just happened.

“A Hale Alpha,” Scott corrected him as he looked at the young woman. For the first time, he spotted the triskelion necklace Stiles now held in his hand. It was stained with her blood, but it was obvious that it was the crest of the Hale family.

“Maybe she isn’t part of the royal family, just their pack,” Scott tried to reason, watching Stiles as he continued to stare down at the pendent in his hand.

“She said Derek,” Stiles finally stated, turning to look at Scott. “Derek Hale.”

Realization crossed Scott’s face as the heaviness of the situation started to crush him. His protective instincts kicked in when he grabbed Stiles’ arm, pulling him back to the safety of the castle.

“Scott!” Stiles yelled his name, turning his body to look back at the dead Alpha. “We can’t leave her!”

“What do you think will happen when the Hales find out you were here?” Scott finally stated as he stopped pulling a struggling Stiles after him. “Do you think that just because you comforted her as she died that they would be grateful?”

“What if it was your mom, Scott?” Stiles finally questioned. “What if it was my dad?” He shook his head, trying to pretend he wasn’t thinking about losing another parent—his last parent. “We can’t just leave her body there. She deserves respect.”

“What about them, Stiles?” Scott motioned towards the part of the woods where several growls and shouts came from, the signs that a skirmish was happening out of sight. “What about everyone who has died on this battlefield? We can’t bury them all.” He waited for his words to sink in, shaking Stiles to his very core.

“What was she doing this far away from the battle, though?” Stiles questioned. “I mean, look, Scott. She is alone out here. She struggled with someone, and then they killed her. This wasn’t part of the battle,” he reasoned.

“And if it wasn’t, do you think they will believe that the crowned fox prince and his wolf bodyguard decided to bury her out of the kindness of their hearts, or that they were trying to cover up their crime?” Scott waited for Stiles to catch up with his logic.

“We have to tell my father,” Stiles finally stated in defeat. “He’ll know what to do … hopefully.”

“Stiles,” Scott whined the Omega’s name, knowing that he was going to get in trouble.

“I’ll take the blame,” Stiles tried to reassure Scott as he moved towards the castle.

That was how they came to be standing in front of Stiles’ father, both of their inner animals tucking their tails between their legs as the King paced in front of them. “I expect this from Stiles, Scott. But you?”

“Nothing will fix my lack of judgment, your majesty,” Scott tried to not mutter as he bowed his head, baring his neck to the King.

“I have faith that you would do anything to keep Stiles safe, but what would have happened if you were outnumbered?” The King inquired. “The Hales have almost twice as many Alphas as us. You could have been killed. Or worse, taken hostage.”

“We weren’t though,” Stiles finally interjected. His eyes widened before he stared back at the ground when his father’s glare practically flattened him.

“Scott,” the King forcefully spoke his name. “I would like to have a word with my son. Alone,” he kept his eyes fixed on Stiles as he spoke.

Scott didn’t hesitate to make himself scarce, quickly darting out of the throne room.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Stiles’ father asked after a pregnant moment.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles stated. “I am. Sorry. Not trying to give you a heart attack. I just … I couldn’t sit in my room and pretend that I’m not affected.” He sighed, scuffing his foot against the polished tile. “I can’t let our people—my people—go out and die for a lost cause. The least I can do is be among them as they die.”

“Lost cause?” His father questioned, crossing his arms across his chest.

“What even started this war? All that has happened is that it continues to grow, drawing more and more packs in.” Stiles watched his father ponder his words. “We’re killing each other now just because we can. We don’t even have a reason beyond retribution for lives taken.”

“You feel that way?” His father questioned, watching Stiles for a tell.

“I’m tired, dad. I’m tired of wondering who is going to die next. If I’m going to see that person for dinner, or if they’ll be dead before the meal is even prepared.”

The King nodded, pursing his lips slightly as he continued to think about Stiles’ words. Stiles knew something was happening, because his father never made that face unless he was worrying about something.

“Dad,” Stiles shifted, uneasy when his father didn’t look at him. “What is it?”

“The Hales, well Queen Talia, have extended an invitation to us. An invitation to meet in order to call a truce,” the King’s words sounded skeptical.

“Dad, that’s great,” Stiles stated in joy. The moment was ruined as he recalled the young Alpha from earlier. “I don’t think they know … ”

“Know what?” His father asked, looking up at Stiles as he forgot his pondering about the invitation.

“About the young Hale Alpha Scott and I found,” Stiles sheepishly stated, uncertain how his father would react.

“What?” His father sounded confused.

“She was fatally injured when we found her. She … she died in my arms,” Stiles stated. “That’s why Scott and I came to tell you we were outside the palace walls. We don’t know what to do.”

“Stiles,” his father closed his eyes in defeat as he groaned. “You didn’t touch her. Tell me you didn’t touch her,” he repeated more to himself, not wanting to hear what actually happened.

“I couldn’t leave her to die alone,” Stiles started.

“Stiles, your scent will be all over her,” his father stated.

Stiles began to panic. He was so preoccupied with helping the woman be distracted from the pain that he didn’t think about leaving his scent on her. Scott was too preoccupied panicking that someone would stumble upon them to even mention that.

“I … I didn’t know,” Stiles weakly replied. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Where is she?” His father asked.

“She’s close to the castle’s walls,” Stiles offered. “She wasn’t near the skirmish.”

“She wasn’t in the middle of fight?” His father sounded confused.

“No. I don’t know what she was doing there, but she was alone. There was evidence that she struggled with someone, but nothing else.”

“You’re sure she was a Hale?” His father asked.

Stiles quickly rummaged through his pockets, producing the pendent from earlier. He offered it to his father, glad that he washed the blood off before asking for an audience with him. He let the pendent slip from his fingers, unable to suppress the feeling that he was being robbed of something.

“She had the family crest pendant. She also … she asked me to tell her family she loved them. And to apologize to Derek.”

“Derek Hale,” his father let out a built up sigh as he inspected the pendent. “This isn’t going to go over well.” He reached his hand out to offer the pendent back to Stiles.

“Can we still meet them for peace?” Stiles asked, eager to accept their truce as he took the pendent back from his father.

“I’ll send word of your encounter,” his father stated. “Explain the situation. And hopefully avoid an incident.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Stiles apologized. “I just …”

“I know, kiddo, I know,” his father said, gently placing his hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. “I’m proud of you for caring,” his father added. “Not all foxes would help a dying wolf.”

“I didn’t help a dying wolf,” Stiles corrected. “I helped a young woman who was dying.”

John observed Stiles’ features, smiling fondly to himself.

“What?” Stiles questioned, feeling as if he spoke out of turn.

“Nothing, you just remind me of your mother,” John replied. “Always caring about others. Seeing the good in the world. Perhaps you’ll be able to bring an end to this war after all, kiddo.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

John had reassured Stiles that Talia responded as well as she could have, given the news he sent her. He informed Stiles that she accepted John’s suggestion that they still meet to discuss a peace treaty between them. He allowed Talia to choose the meeting’s location: the Druid’s territory.

Stiles continued to fidget as he waited in the hallway outside the throne hall. He knew Scott was behind him, guaranteeing his safety, but he still felt a swell of fear in his stomach. The doors were the only barrier protecting him from the Hale family and their wrath for the death of their eldest. For their crowned princess. Their eldest Alpha.

“I’ve got your back,” Scott stated, noting Stiles’ spike in fear.

“Thanks, buddy,” Stiles replied as he patted his shoulder. “I appreciate you coming. I know how hard it is to face … _this_ ,” he motioned to the door. He knew Scott never wanted to face the royal wolf family, but he chose having Stiles’ back over his own concerns. Even his own safety.

“My mom and I were offered refuge by your father when no one in our wolf community would even help,” Scott replied, his voice growing low. Stiles sensed a sudden pitch in Scott’s aggression. “They stood by as my dad abused my mother. Just because he was an Alpha and could do as he pleased. _You’re_ my family, Stiles. You’re my clan and pack now. And facing them is the least of my worries.”

Stiles smiled as he moved to hug Scott. He feared coming here but it put him at ease knowing that Scott was going to be there. Scott would never let him fall victim, and that put his fox at ease.

“Prince Stilinski,” one of the druid guards opened the doors to the throne hall, eyeing both Stiles and Scott.

“Yes?” Stiles asked, releasing Scott as he turned to look at him. He wanted to roll his eyes at the look the guard was giving him. He hated it when people automatically assumed Scott was Stiles’ consort. The idea made him feel dirty, feeling as if someone suggested he be bed by his brother.

“Your father has spoken,” the guard stated. “You now may enter,” he moved to the side to allow Stiles enough room to enter.

Stiles nodded, taking a deep breath before walking forward, to what he feared was his doom. He felt a wave of relief the moment he locked eyes with his father, who offered him a small smile of encouragement. The comforting moment was ruined the minute he felt the heat of eyes on him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. His eyes quickly flickered over to the family that sat at the table across the hall.

Stiles could immediately tell that they were the Hales. _They all look alike. They all look like her …_ He was haunted by her face ever since that day. Haunted by eyes that were at peace from a lifetime of war; eyes that thanked him, even though he couldn’t save her.

The eldest woman carefully watched him move, her eyes observing and evaluating him, as if she was waiting to see him perform something. The man next to her gently rubbed his hand over her shoulder in a reassuring manner, suggesting that whatever his father had said when addressing them upset her wolf. _She must be Queen Talia._ He was uncertain who the other man was. He knew King Andrew had been murdered a few years ago, leaving the Hale family vengeful for the taste of fox blood.

Stiles’ eyes moved to the man sitting next to Queen Talia, and instantly wished he hadn’t. He immediately locked eyes with him, seeing the same beautiful green eyes that Laura had. His eyes, however, spoke volumes for how he felt about Stiles, and none of it was friendly. His cold glare caused Stiles’ fox to whimper and cower back, knowing that a predator was in the room with him. An angered predator. _And that must be Derek_.

Stiles pulled his eyes away to spot a young woman, about his age, sitting next to Derek. She was staring down at her hands, avoiding looking at Stiles and the rest of those gathered in the hall. Stiles wasn’t sure who she was, only hearing stories of the warriors on the battlefield. There was a young, curly haired man standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder as he comforted her.

Stiles looked at his father, wishing he never let his eyes wander from him. _I shouldn’t have looked at them. It’s probably disrespectful_. He had spent the trip with Scott’s mom, requesting all her knowledge about the wolf court and what would be appropriate. He didn’t want to start an even bigger war.

“Just follow your father’s lead and don’t speak out of turn,” Melissa instructed him. “The Druid’s kingdom is hallowed ground, and for one family to threaten another, it may be punishable by death.”

 _No pressure, Stiles, just don’t be your idiotic self and accidentally insult them_. Stiles took his spot next to his father, noticing that Melissa was standing behind him as Scott took a spot beside her.

The Druid leader nodded to Stiles and his father before motioning for them to take their seats. Stiles followed his father’s lead and sank into his seat, relieved that his legs were no longer straining to remain standing. He allowed them to shake lightly, his fox back to being full of energy and anxious to run away from the Hale family as soon as possible.

“I welcome you both,” the Druid leader began to address them. “Queen Talia, King John. You are your kingdoms’ rulers, however I extended my hand to your entire family, a formality for each voice to be heard.” The Druid leader eyed both of the families before turning to the Hales.

“Queen Talia, in our past correspondence over the years, you have expressed a desire to relinquish your role as head Alpha.”

“I have. I still do,” Talia raised her head as she spoke, and Stiles couldn’t help but admire her. To step down during a war could be seen as cowardice, however Talia held the poise of a victor. “Laura, my eldest, was to be Alpha next. However, circumstances have prevented that future,” she turned to look at Stiles. “Derek is the next and only Hale Alpha left.”

 _Oh shit. He’s going to want me served up on a silver platter_ , Stiles thought as he watched Derek’s scowl turn into a possibly more somber mood.

“Very well. Since the outcome of this meeting will affect Derek’s reign, should I address him as speaker of the Hale pack, then?” The Druid leader inquired.

Derek turned his head to look at his mother. They shared an unspoken dialogue before Derek nodded his head to Talia. Talia turned to look at the Druid leader. “Once my son takes a mate, he will ascend to head Alpha status on the upcoming full moon. As of now, I relinquish my power and duties to him. He is our Alpha: our strength, our courage, our voice.”

The Druid leader nodded before turning to John. “King John,” he nodded in respect. “It has been a long time since we last saw one another. I still grieve the loss of your wife.”

Stiles looked at his father, frowning when he saw the flash of pain flicker across his face before he pushed the feeling away. He knew his father didn’t talk about his mother, because he kept her memory to himself. Stiles always thought of it as selfish, never understanding why he couldn’t share his mother’s memory. It wasn’t until he was older and understood how mates worked that made Stiles respect his father. Most mates crumbled and fell when they lost the other, but his father continued to hold a kingdom, caught in an endless war, on his shoulders.

“Who shall speak for you and your people?” The Druid leader asked.

Stiles watched his father process the situation, pondering the positives and negatives of his next decision. Stiles knew this meant Talia was refraining from voicing her opinions, leaving the power in Derek’s hands. _Derek’s strong, deadly terrifying yet gorgeous, hands_.

Whatever King John decided to do, he knew it must work to their advantage. He dealt with Talia before, but he never dreamed of dealing with her son. A man he only knew by his reputation alone, and it didn’t satisfy him.

“Stiles,” John stated his name, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder.

Stiles turned his head to look at his father, believing he was stating his name in order to gain his attention for a question. His eyes widened the minute he realized what his father said. _Me? He wants_ me _to negotiate the future of our people with Derek freaking Hale_.

“I am older now, and have been waiting to step down for some time,” John explained to both the nodding Druid leader and the gaping Stiles. “Stiles is my only son, and therefore my only heir.”

“And his mate?” The Druid leader asked, eyeing the empty chair next to him.

“Stiles’ intended mate died a few years back in one of the … skirmishes.” His father hesitated in saying _assassination attempts_.

Stiles frowned as he recalled Malia. The bounce in her step, the laughter hidden in he eyes, the smell of her skin. It almost frightened Stiles as he recalled her form from memory alone. Malia both frightened and intrigued Stiles, her passion for learning even when she knew she wasn’t the smartest in the room. The way she always pushed forward in her determinations. Her death was what forced Stiles into pushing his dreams of having a mate into the back of his mind, believing that love and happiness were things that only existed in folk tales.

“Very well,” the Druid leader replied. “Prince Derek, Prince Stiles, you have both come here, accepting my invitation for you to reach a peace among your people. I must ask you, how far are you both willing to go in order to stop this war?”

Stiles found himself looking to Derek, watching him to see if he was going to make a move to speak. He made the mistake at looking at the female guard standing behind Derek. She was older than Derek, yet still beautiful enough to make several heads turn when she walked into a room. Her eyes, however, were cold and fierce as she glared at Stiles. Her arms were taut across her chest, her dark blond hair curling around her face did nothing to soften the intensity of her hatred for Stiles.

“I am willing to do whatever is necessary to end this,” Derek’s voice broke Stiles from his thoughts. It was the first time he heard Derek speak, and damn him for having another perfect trait to add to the endless list.

Stiles’ gaze turned back to Derek, unable to look away when they locked eyes with one another. He felt his throat drying out, anxiety building up in his gut the moment he realized that this is where he decided who lived and who died. The future of this war was now resting on Stiles’ shoulders, and he wasn’t sure he wanted that weight there. It was easier to give his opinions and thoughts when he wasn’t stuck executing those plans. The whole hall watched Stiles carefully, waiting for him to decide whether the war ended here.

Stiles looked at the Druid leader before he spoke, unable to face his father or the Hales as he formed his words. “I am in agreement with Alpha Hale,” he was surprised how firm and unwavering his voice sounded. He was positive he heard a satisfied growl resonating from one of the Hales, and he had hoped it was Derek.

It was at that moment that Stiles decided he was being childish and letting his biological natural get the better of him. His Omega fox preened gladly at the thought of pleasing an Alpha, especially a wolf Alpha. Harris often lectured him on how a fox could never please a wolf. That the savagery of wolves made it impossible for a fox to even try. But Stiles’ fox was determined to hear that growl again, maybe even hearing a soft rumbling purr.

“I am willing to do whatever is necessary to end this. We both have lost too many people.” Stiles felt the heat rush over him in waves as he finished speaking. He was shocked he managed to finish, let alone compose more than one sentence.

“Very well,” the Druid leader replied, looking back at other members of his council before turning back to the two families. “You both have come here, seeking a way to end this mindless violence, but all I can offer you is a single solution. Take it, or leave it.”

Stiles felt a knot beginning to form in his stomach, bile rising up as he fought the feeling to flee. His eyes flickered to Derek, noticing how intent he looked, listening to every word the Druid leader spoke.

“You both have said you are willing to give whatever it takes. As the leaders of your people, you yourselves cannot ask your people to do what you are not willing to do.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he tried to understand what the Druid leader was suggesting.

“I suggest you enact the treaties of old. Unite your two families as one,” the Druid leader finally stated.

 _You have to be kidding me_ , Stiles knew his face paled, and he was certain he was going to vomit. He caught sight of the younger girl beside Derek reaching for him, grasping his hand tightly as fear covered her features.

“Cora is already promised to Isaac,” Talia effortlessly spoke.

“Mating your youngest off will not have the greatest impact intended,” the Druid leader spoke softly.

 _Oh fuck_ , Stiles looked at his father then Scott, wondering if they caught on yet. Stiles was somewhat relieved when he noticed the confusion on Scott’s face be completely replaced with anger. Scott looked at Stiles and gave him a simple shake of his head, his own silent protest.

“Stiles,” the Druid leader spoke his name with authority, waiting for Stiles to look at him. “Take Derek Hale as your mate. As your Alpha.”

Stiles knew he must have had a facial expression conveying complete and utter shock when his father nudged him under the table. He tried to shy away, hiding the blush on his face as he thought about the possibility of being intimate with a wolf, let alone with someone like Derek Hale.

“Derek, take Stiles Stilinski as your mate. As your Omega, and under your protection, the two houses will be united. Unite your people by uniting yourselves first.”

Stiles wasn’t surprised when he heard the first outburst come from across the hall. It was a high-pitched growl—most likely coming from the female bodyguard behind Derek—followed by Talia’s deeper growl of protest.

“That’s a ridiculous idea!” Talia yelled. “You expect us to accept a fox into our pack?”

The words cut deeper than Stiles thought they would. He wasn’t used to hearing first hand such disdain for his race. He stared down at his hands as he tried to find his voice, to say something in protest, but part of him knew the Druid leader was right. They couldn’t ask their people to do something they couldn’t. If there was no guarantee that the families would be amicable towards one another, there was no guarantee for peace to fall among their people.

“Just as they would accept a wolf into theirs!” Scott almost barked.

“Scott!” Melissa harshly whispered his name.

“They seem to already have an Alpha wolf leashed,” the man beside Talia interrupted, gesturing towards Scott. “They don’t need another.”

This time is was Derek that spoke. “Peter,” his voice was deep, dangerous. It was as if Derek was holding something back.

 _Perhaps his disgust at the suggestion that he take a fox for a mate._ Me _as a mate_ , Stiles thought as he continued to stare at his hands.

“I am not suggesting one family bow to another,” the Druid leader offered. “Mates do not bow to one another. They are equals in every right. I am suggesting an Alpha care for an Omega. And an Omega care for an Alpha.”

“An Alpha wolf and an Omega fox,” Stiles’ father spoke for the first time. His voice was calm and collected, not letting on to the inevitable storm he felt warring inside. “Our customs, our natures, everything is different.”

“Perhaps your species have been separated for too long,” the Druid leader replied. “In the end, it is your decision.” He bowed to them before turning to leave.

“Wait,” Stiles wasn’t sure why he called after them, afraid that this was the end of the peace talks. This was the end of their negotiations for peace and there would never be an end to this war.

“You have heard what I have to say,” the Druid leader replied. “I suggest you talk amongst yourselves before you retire to your quarters for the night. My invitation expires with the moon tomorrow. You have until then to decide, and after that,” he sighed deeply before he continued. “After that, it is your choice to continue fighting one another.” With that, the Druid leader and his guards exited the hall, leaving both royal families to face one another.

“You can’t,” Scott’s voice came from next to Stiles’ ear. “He’s an Alpha wolf, he’s stronger than you.”

Stiles looked at Scott for the first time since his outburst. He scanned his friend’s features as he finally realized that it wasn’t Scott’s hatred for the Hales that caused him to speak out of turn. It was Scott’s concern for Stiles’ safety.

If Stiles became Derek’s mate, his father would no longer be his Alpha and no longer responsible for his safety. Stiles’ life would be placed in Derek’s hands, for Derek to do with as he saw fit. If Derek felt like raising a voice or hand to Stiles, no one could challenge him on that. And being an Omega meant that even though he could severely injure Derek, should they ever enter an altercation, Derek could ultimately overpower him. _Foxes may be faster, but wolves are stronger_ , Stiles remembered his mother warning him when he was young. _But wolves also have a high sense of honor ingrained in them. They do anything for their pack_.

“Scott,” Stiles reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me that being his mate would guarantee your safety,” Scott took the words from Stiles’ mouth. “Don’t tell me that because I know that means nothing. I’ve _seen_ that it means nothing.”

Stiles eyes flickered towards Melissa, knowing that Scott was referring to his father.

“But to paint every Alpha, every wolf, the same as your father is ignorant, Scott,” Stiles finally responded.

“Stiles-”

“You are an Alpha wolf, Scott,” Stiles stated. “You have never once placed my life in danger. You have protected me since we were little.” He smiled as he recalled the time Scott almost shoved Malia down the stairs when she dragged Stiles out of his bedroom, kicking and screaming because he didn’t want to leave the safety of his bedroom as he grieved his mother. She had clamped her hand down a little too tightly and caused Stiles to cry out in pain. Scott was there in an instant, yanking Malia off of Stiles before shoving her back, protectively coiling around Stiles as he bared his teeth, eyes bleeding red as he growled.

Scott sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn’t argue with Stiles about that. He nodded before adding, “It’s your choice.” He leaned back away from Stiles, resuming his spot next to his mother.

“But you don’t have to be happy about it,” Stiles added before Scott could.

Stiles looked over at the Hales, noticing for the first time that Talia and Derek were standing, exchanging words that Stiles could only surmise as harsh.

Talia gestured towards the female guard who had protested earlier, before she grabbed Derek’s arm when he tried to turn from her. She held Derek’s glare as he bit out a growl.

Derek’s growl was faint but evident. It wasn’t threatening, only a warning that he protested against being kept in the hall. It was strong and intimidating, making Stiles’ fox whimper, knowing there was an upset Alpha in the room.

“With respect, Talia,” Stiles’ father spoke, interrupting the Hales’ murmured argument. “After the death of his betrothed, I promised Stiles that he could make his own choice of mate.”

 _Oh for the love of everything holy, Dad. Don’t insult them_ , Stiles prayed as he watched his father stand.

“And by the looks of it, you have promised Derek a similar thing,” John gestured towards Derek, as if he knew more about their argument than he should.

“After my husband’s death, I made a similar promise,” Talia confirmed. "We always wanted our children to mate for love opposed to … convenience."

“Perhaps there is another way for us to come to an agreement then,” John broached.

“This is a lot to take in, John,” Talia addressed. “I believe both our families need time to discuss this.”

John nodded in agreement, knowing that if he pushed it further he ran the risk of ruining the peace attempt permanently. “Of course,” he bowed his head in respect before turning to exit.

Stiles quickly stood, following his father and Melissa, sensing Scott’s presence walking behind him. He knew he shouldn’t let his eyes wander, but he couldn’t help but look over to the Hales. He noticed that the blond male guard was conversing with Cora, holding hands with her as they talked. The female guard looked incredibly angry as she stood obediently behind Derek. Derek was staring at the ground, a scowl stuck across his features. Talia remained by Derek’s side, reaching a hand up to place it over Peter’s hand on her shoulder.

Something inside Stiles drove him to stop walking. He heard Scott skid to a halt, almost running straight into him. He hesitated before turning to head over to the Hales. He placed a hand out to Scott to stop him. “I made a promise, Scott,” he stated before taking the first of many difficult steps towards the Hales.

Stiles looked up as he approached the family. Talia was the first to see Stiles, her posture straightening as she watched Stiles’ every move. Peter arched his eyebrow as he too watched Stiles, intrigued to discover the young prince’s intentions.

“I’m not sure if you’ll even believe me,” Stiles started as he bowed his head in respect to her. “But there was nothing I could do for your daughter when I found her. I didn’t even know who she was until she gave me this,” he produced Laura’s pendant from his pocket, showing it to Talia. “She asked me to tell you—all of you—that she loved you.”

Stiles found himself looking at Derek, his fox telling him to run before the wolf could get any closer. Derek was staring at Stiles, his features unreadable. He forced his eyes to look back to Talia, unable to look Derek in the eye as he spoke the next part of Laura’s last words. “She asked me to tell Derek she was sorry.” He clenched his fists when he heard a low growl come from Derek. It wasn’t exactly a challenge to Stiles’ words, but more of a disbelief that Laura uttered those words.

“I thought you should have this,” Stiles finally stated, taking a step towards Talia with his hand stretch out as he offered Laura’s pendent. He was stopped when he heard both guards snarl and snap their teeth at him. He recoiled his body into a further hunch, trying to display that he was not a threat.

Talia snapped her fangs at them, growling them into submission. She observed Stiles, noting how he immediately froze to try and appease the anger of her guards. She looked at Peter before slowly slipping around the table to come over to Stiles. She watched as Scott tensed, preparing to move forward and dive between her and Stiles.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat when Talia came to stand in front of him. He knew his neck was exposed and that Talia could easily kill him if she saw fit. _She could make me lick her heel_ , a voice chirped inside his head. He was surprised by the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her.

“Thank you,” Talia’s voice was firm, but Stiles could see the wavering in her eyes—how her voice was prepared to crack under emotion. “It puts my wolf at ease to know that my pup did not die scared and alone.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her,” Stiles knew his voice was soft, but it was the only confession he wanted to make. It had been weighing on him since that day.

Talia surprised Stiles when she suddenly embraced him. Her eyes flickered to Scott when she sensed his stumbled movements to close the gap between them and him. She eased his worry by offering him a non-challenged look, before gently angling Stiles’ head to rest on her shoulder.

Stiles’ fox yipped and purred at the contact, overjoyed that he was being comforted by an Alpha. Stiles was confused and scared when he didn’t feel fear from being embraced by a wolf. An Alpha wolf that could easily kill him. He leaned into Talia’s embrace, feeling a maternal comfort he lost so many years ago.

“She wasn’t your responsibility,” Talia stated. “You did more than most.”  She leaned back, taking the pendent from Stiles’ hand. “As a mother, you have my eternal thanks.”

Stiles hesitated as Talia’s words sank in. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding before nodding. He pulled away from her, turning to go join Scott before they exited.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Scott questioned once the doors closed.

“I couldn’t just leave and not tell them what Laura said,” Stiles stated. “I promised her.”

“You’re lucky Derek reacted when he did. Those guards were ready to attack,” Scott stated.

“Derek?” Stiles arched an eyebrow at Scott.

“They didn’t listen to Talia when she growled. They didn’t back off until Derek flashed his eyes,” Scott explained.

“Oh,” Stiles looked down at the ground. _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he thought, his fox wagging its tail happily.


	2. A Fox Among Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! First of all, thank you all for the lovely comments. I am somewhat emotional over how well liked this fic is. I can't believe this story has had such a positive response with only a chapter available. So, thank you, thank you, thank you, for all of your wonderful compliments <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I plan on trying to regularly update this fic, as royal arranged marriage Sterek gives me so many feels.

Stiles tossed and turned in his bed, unable to fall asleep as thoughts of meeting the Hales continued to plague his mind. He turned onto his side, staring out the window as the moonlight pooled into the room, illuminating the floor and part of his bed. He wondered if the Druid leader had a point when he said that they couldn’t expect their people to do what they were so unwilling to do. He wasn’t going to lie, Derek Hale was an _exceptional_ option for a mate. He never expected to choose his own mate, but he never anticipated entering into a completely political arrangement to end the war. He knew he and his fox were physically attracted to Derek, but he was hesitant to accept a complete stranger as his mate, regardless of how attractive they were.

Stiles’ thoughts ceased when a chill ran through his body, bristling as his fox screamed, _Wolf_. He immediately sat up, inching back towards the headboard as he scanned the darkness of his room.

“You’re an idiot if you think you can get away with killing me here,” Stiles stated into the silence. “If you are seeking retribution for your fallen brothers and sisters, killing me will not bring them back.”

“The pain of your people would be satisfying, though,” a familiar voice replied from the dark.

Stiles’ mouth ran dry as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Why kill me, Alpha Hale?”

“‘Alpha Hale’?” There was an amusement in Derek’s voice as he emerged from the shadows. “And you honestly think I’m going to kill you?”

Stiles scanned Derek’s form, noticing how nonthreatening he actually looked. Which, Stiles noted, was insane! As an Alpha wolf, Derek was in a position of power over Stiles. He could easily kill him, let alone hurt him. “Are you insane?” He suddenly blurted out, curling his legs into his chest. “Do you have any idea what will happen if you get caught in here?”

“What, am I going to start a war?” Derek mockingly questioned.

“My father will not react kindly to me being alone in a room with you,” Stiles replied.

“And why is that?” Derek questioned, finally taking a few steps forward until a few strips of moonlight illuminated his entire form.

 _Predator_ , Stiles’ fox screamed at him. He had never been alone in a room with an Alpha beside his father or Scott. The difference was that this was Derek Hale, the future head of the Hale family, the leader in the war against Stiles’ own clan. An Alpha that Stiles’ fox recognized as a potential mate.

“I think you know why,” Stiles quipped back. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Don’t worry, little prince, I’m not going to defile you,” Derek replied with an annoyed sigh.

Stiles flushed. “I meant on the battlefield.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, either,” Derek sounded angry as he spoke, insulted that Stiles was suggesting, once again, that he would harm him.

Stiles had heard a few stories here and there about Derek's abilities on—and off—the battlefield. He wondered how much of the stories were meant to strike a fearful reputation, and how much were true. He heard of Derek's anger and ferocity when faced with an opponent. In his younger years, Derek was referred to as the "Impaler" and Stiles wished he didn't know why he was called that. He wished he hadn't heard the stories of the young Hale Alpha who easily impaled fox after fox on his claws, eyes bleeding crimson red with bloodlust. But Derek hadn't been seen on the battlefield in years—none of the Hales had been since King Andrew's death. Stories of Derek faded into the background, old tales to be told in order to scare children into not fighting.

“Then why are you here?” Stiles finally asked.

“If there is to be any _weight_ to what the Druids suggested, I figured I should get to know you,” Derek replied. “My family seemed more than eager to growl at you as yours seemed to be content with running away.”

“We didn’t run—”

“You left the throne room,” Derek challenged.

“Your mother agreed,” Stiles bit back.

Derek stared at Stiles, his face unreadable in the darkness. A look of impressed flashed over his face before he ducked his head to hide a smile.

“What?” Stiles questioned.

“I’ve heard foxes were pleasant conversationalists,” Derek started, taking another step towards Stiles’ bed. “It’s been a while since anyone has argued with me. Especially an Omega.”

“My biology may tell me to bare my throat to you, but it doesn’t rule me,” Stiles replied. He hoped Derek wasn’t against the rights of Omegas, seeing them—seeing Stiles—as nothing but a vessel for an Alpha to seek pleasure from.

“It’s refreshing,” Derek explained.

Stiles’ eyes softened, observing Derek for a lie or a mock. He couldn’t detect one.

“So, tell me, do you think this _arrangement_ could end this war?” Derek questioned.

“I think it’s the one option that doesn’t involve bloodshed,” Stiles replied. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I know it’s not an ideal arrangement, but I think we can both learn to be … _civil_ with one another.” He looked up at Derek through his eyelashes, nervous of seeing a look of distain cross his face. Instead, he was greeted by Derek’s eyes carefully inspecting Stiles’ own features. He swallowed the lump in his throat when Derek began to lower himself onto the edge of his bed, his fox being overwhelmed by the scent of _Alpha_.

“Being a mate is about more than being civil,” Derek explained, eyes holding Stiles’ gaze. “My people will not easily be fooled. They will only accept you if they believe we chose each other.”

“Are we not choosing each other if we choose this arrangement?” Stiles questioned, his pulse quickening under Derek’s gaze.

“They won’t believe their Alpha is capable of loving a fox,” Derek replied.

“We’re more than just our species, Derek,” Stiles gently responded as he cast his eyes down to the blanket bunched between them. He was surprised when he felt Derek’s fingertips graze his jaw, gently tipping up Stiles’ chin to make him look at him.

“After so many years of hate and bloodshed, can we be?” Derek questioned.

Stiles gulped, noticing the way Derek’s eyes flickered over the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “We could try,” he almost whispered.

“We could try,” Derek echoed Stiles’ response, leaning into his atmosphere.

Stiles searched Derek’s face, uncertain of his intentions. It didn’t mean marriage and mating if they kissed, but it did mean Derek wasn’t repulsed by the idea of kissing him. And Stiles was all for kissing Derek Hale.

It was in no ways a quick kiss, but it was slow and tamed. Derek didn’t push for more than Stiles gave. Stiles leaned into him, bringing his hands to rest on Derek’s neck as he tried to pull them together. They were both preoccupied with the kiss, unable to register the sound of footsteps down the hall. The sound of a familiar pair of footsteps that halted outside Stiles’ door. A pair of footsteps that burst through the door once it registered that there was an Alpha wolf alone with Stiles, in his room.

Stiles pulled back from Derek, both of them immediately scrambling up off of the bed. Stiles flailed a little as the sheets tangled themselves around his limbs, causing him to almost crash down onto the floor. Scott was standing in the door, his eyes wide as he registered what he just witnessed, before his brow furrowed and his eyes bled red. Stiles felt Derek’s body tense under his hands, his eyes flashing red, answering Scott’s challenge. They were both prepared to lunge at each other when Stiles immediately moved in between them, holding his hands out in a placating manner to Scott.

“Scott, he’s not here to hurt me,” Stiles quickly explained.

It shocked Scott when he realized Stiles was leaving his back open to Derek and not him. He was even more confused when Derek recanted his challenge first, allowing his face to morph back to normal as he looked over at Stiles.

“If your father knew—” Scott began.

“You are not going to tell him,” Stiles demanded. “Derek came to talk with me.”

“Didn’t look like it,” Scott muttered back.

“We were getting to know each other,” Derek commented.

Stiles wanted to groan as he looked over at Derek. He was embarrassed enough by being caught, let alone there being a commentary about it. “Derek was just leaving,” he stated, giving Derek a look that told him he better leave before the entire situation took a turn for the worse.

“I was just leaving,” Derek mimicked Stiles statement. He, however, hesitated in moving towards the door, a pensive look crossing his features. He slowly removed the pendant around his neck, turning to Stiles. “If you want to continue our conversation, come to the Hale palace wearing this,” he explained as he easily slid the pendant’s chain over Stiles’ head.

Stiles stared at the pendant, noticing how identical it was to Laura’s. “Just this?” He asked in disbelief that such a tiny pendant could guarantee his safety.

A small, private smile crossed Derek’s features as he replied, “I wouldn’t take offense if you wear just that.”

Stiles felt the blood rush to his face, regretting his choice of words. “That’s … That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he stammered as he stared down at the pendant.

“I hope to see you again, Stiles,” Derek replied, the laugh in his voice evident.

Stiles was surprised how much he didn’t want Derek to part, intrigued by his entire existence. He looked up, further surprised when Derek placed a chaste kiss against his forehead before parting. He noted the way Scott glared at Derek, barely moving out of the way for Derek to pass.

Scott waited a few moments before shutting the door behind him. “Tell me you aren’t considering meeting him again,” he quickly said, moving closer to Stiles.

“I’m considering it,” Stiles admitted, hoping his blush would die down.

“Stiles, you can’t,” Scott tried to reason with him.

“Scott, this might be our only chance.”

“It might be his only chance to murder the son of the Fox King,” Scott retorted.

Stiles frowned, realizing that he never considered the fact that Derek could inflict harm on him. He was too busy being overjoyed with the feel of Derek’s lips against his, the fact that a mate as perfect as Derek was interested in him. He had forgotten about the night Malia died, what the assassin had said before his father managed to killed him.  _Derek Hale sends his regards_.

“Stiles, you can’t go, and you know it,” Scott continued.

Stiles sunk down onto his bed, twisting the pendant as he ran his fingertips over it. _I hope to see you again, Stiles_ , he recalled Derek’s words. He was torn between accepting that Derek wished to barter peace, and admitting that Scott had a point.

“I don't think he means me harm, Scott. He could have easily killed me already,” Stiles weakly pointed out.

“Perhaps he's setting a trap for a fox,” Scott replied.

_Either let the war rage on or risk it all by going into the belly of the beast. Mom, I could really use a sign._

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles was disappointed when the Druid guards informed him that the Hales left early that morning. _There goes my attempt to broker a peace between us on amicable ground_. He was thankful, however, when both Scott and his father agreed to give him a carriage to himself, offering him time to think. He decided that not telling them he was planning on hiking through the woods to the Hale palace was the smarter plan. He had written the letter in his lap over a dozen times before he finally conceded that this was adequate enough to—hopefully—quell Scott’s and his father’s anger.

 

_Scott,_

_Please don’t be mad. I am doing this for the good of both clans. The cries of people dying still haunt me. I know they haunt you too. I am going to meet with the Hales. I am going to accept Derek as my mate, my Alpha, if he will have me. I believe he is a good man, haunted by his own demons from this war, just as my father is plagued by this war._

_I know you are going to be upset with me—you’re going to be downright furious—but I knew you would never let me go. Derek gave me a token of his family crest, providing me with protection. Do not follow me, because I fear they will not hesitate to kill you. I know this is a fragile situation, but I am doing what I was born to do. I am bringing this war to an end the only way I know._

_I will see you again, Scott. Do not worry. And tell my father not to worry—and that he may throttle me when I return home—and that I am doing the only thing I know I can. I am being the diplomat he raised me to be._

_Your friend,_

_Stiles_

 

Stiles reread his letter a few times before he carefully folded it, placing it on his seat. He timed his exit perfectly, waiting for the appropriate amount of foliage to cover his form as he tumbled from the carriage. He remained close to the ground, staying hidden as the last of their caravan passed.

 _Please don’t let me die_ , Stiles closed his eyes as he prayed to his mother. _Please let this be the right decision._ He pushed off the ground, making his way across the woods and over into the Hale’s territory. He hoped the caravan wouldn’t stop for a while, providing him with enough time to reach Derek.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles was panting, his fox begging to run through the brush, desperate to stretch its legs. It had been years since his father allowed him to go on a run, worried that an attack would be imminent. Stiles didn’t blame his father, because he knew he was reckless. _Exhibit A: snuck out in the dead of night, made my way through the woods and headed straight for the wolves._

Stiles’ fingers ran over the Hale pendant hanging from his neck. It was identical to the one Laura had, however this one had Derek’s name etched into the side of one of the spirals. He ran his fingertip along the letters of Derek’s name, his thoughts wandering to Derek as he continued his walk.

Derek was unlike any Alpha Stiles had met before. He wasn’t sure if it was because Derek was a wolf, or if it was because Stiles’ fox positively responded to his wolf. Derek didn’t command that his presence be known, but it was difficult to ignore him. He welcomed Stiles’ opinions, even welcomed his sarcasm, never growling the Omega into submission.

Stiles recalled the one time he was growled into submission by an Alpha other than his father. It was customary for an Alpha to see to their child’s behavior—to educate them in how to act around others. Stiles was the first Omega born to an Alpha in more than a hundred years. Omegas were rare to begin with, and much more rare were the Omegas born to Alphas. His father never rejected him, loving and caring for him as if he was an Alpha or Beta. That was how Stiles made a grave error of assuming everyone saw him that way.

It happened a few months before Stiles’ mother grew desperately ill, when visiting Alphas and their packs came to pay respect to their clan’s leaders. Stiles had been playing with Scott and Malia in the foyer, Malia and Stiles trying to overpower Scott in a game of tug-of-war. Even at a young age, the wolf already displayed greater strength than his fox friends.

Stiles had caught sight of a child hiding behind the bannister, her eyes flashing orange as she watched them play. He released the rope, leaving Malia to tumbling head first into Scott who was yanking too hard on the rope. The two landed in a heap of laughter on the floor, causing the hidden young girl to giggle at their situation.

“Do you want to play?” Stiles asked the girl, ignoring Scott and Malia as they tried to pull him down with them.

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise when she realized she had been caught. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized, quickly coming out from behind the bannister. “I didn’t mean to snoop, your highness.” She stumbled as she tried to bow in front of Stiles.

“You don’t have to bow,” Stiles replied with a frown. The girl immediately straightened when she heard Stiles’ disappointment in her action.

“Stiles doesn’t like being a prince,” Malia stated, pushing off of Scott.

Stiles ignored Malia as he took a step closer to the girl. “Are you here to see my mom?”

The girl quickly nodded. “My mother is seeing her right now.”

“You should play with us,” Scott suddenly burst.

All three of them turned to look at Scott, shocked by his suddenly outburst.

“I mean, um,” Scott started to blush, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to cover up his embarrassment. “If you want to. It would be more fun with four.”

The girl placed a hand over her mouth as she tried to hide her giggle. “I’d be honored to play,” she replied, smiling as she looked up at Scott.

Stiles and Malia looked at each other, arching an eyebrow as they observed what was happening. That was how the three of them met Kira, a young Beta fox whose mother was head Alpha of the Yukimura pack. They played throughout the afternoon, a carefree time that made Stiles think of things other than his mother’s sickness.

Everything came crashing down when Kira’s mother descended the steps, calling Kira’s name in a reprimanding town.

Kira immediately dropped the play sword Scott let her borrow, her eyes widening in fear. She hurried over to her mother, bowing her head in respect.

“You were supposed to wait with the others,” Alpha Yukimura scolded.

“I’m sorry,” Kira offered.

Kira’s mother looked over at Scott, Stiles, and Malia, her eyes narrowing as she inspecting them. She shook her head before taking her daughter by the arm, escorting her away from the group.

Scott and Malia knew better than to follow, but Stiles was not one to think of consequences.

“Wait!” Stiles yelled as he chased after them. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, we were just playing,” he started to explain.

Kira’s mother turned to fix her eyes on Stiles, her eyes flashing a blood red as she released a contained growl.

Stiles’ legs crumpled under him, causing him to fall onto his butt. He tried to scurry back, his fox panicking as it registered that there was an angry Alpha in the room with him—and Alpha angry _at_ him.

Scott acted on his gut instinct as he moved next to Stiles, releasing his own roar in response to Kira’s mother. Only this time the roar was louder than normal. This time, it wasn’t Scott at all; it was Stiles’ father.

Scott bowed his head, keeping his body still wrapped around Stiles in an attempt to protect him. Both Stiles and Scott waited for John to move between them and Alpha Yukimura before they backed away. They waited to be dismissed before bolting up the stairs and towards their rooms. The distance didn’t stop the three of them from hearing the discussion.

“So the rumors are true, you are keeping a wolf here,” Alpha Yukimura’s voice was judgmental.

“I have given sanctuary to Melissa McCall and her son. They were close friends with my wife’s pack before the war split them apart as well,” John explained.

“Be careful allowing a predator into your home,” Alpha Yukimura replied.

“They are children, Noshiko,” John sighed. “Stiles meant no disrespect by pursuing you. He only wanted to know why you were taking Kira away.”

“An Omega who needs to learn his place,” Noshiko replied.

“He is still my son, Noshiko,” John stated in warning.

“And unpredictable. He would be better to learn his place now than later. Not every Alpha will be as forgiving.”

That was the first time Stiles felt like he was different, as if he didn’t belong. He had known that he and Scott were different than one another; a fox and a wolf. But he never thought about the differences between Omega and Alpha. He always thought that the divide between Omega and Alpha was similar to that of Beta and Alpha. He had cried to his mother that night, asking her why he was different and how he could change it.

“You should never change who you are, sweetheart,” his mother replied. “You are just as smart, powerful, and capable as any Alpha. There is a power in you that is greater than any Alpha. And one day, you will prove that Omegas are just as valuable as Alphas and Betas.”

Stiles was resting against the rough bark of a tree as the memory faded from him. He wished he had just told Derek to come to him, because finding the Hale palace on his own was more difficult than he thought. _Isn’t the Alpha supposed to woo the Omega? Woo me by not making me walk._

Stiles made a move to stand before completely freezing. He couldn’t feel the presence of the wolves until they were practically on him. He was surprised by the feeling of a cold blade pressed against his throat, the warmth of a body behind him.

“Well, well, what have we here?” A female voice came from the figure holding Stiles hostage. “I never thought I’d catch a fox stupidly wandering into our patrol route.”

“I’m here to see Derek Ha—” Stiles cut of his words when the woman began to twist the knife against Stiles’ skin.

“Did I say you could speak?” The woman questioned.

“Kate,” a male voice protested. “You know Derek said no bloodshed.”

“It’s one fox, Chris,” Kate replied.

“Wearing a Hale pendant,” another female voice protested.

“Fine,” Kate grumbled as she removed the dagger from Stiles’ throat.

Stiles didn’t get a chance to thank them when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, followed by him stumbling towards the ground and into darkness.

Stiles awoke to a young woman staring at him, her face only a few inches from his. She smiled when he jumped, arms and legs flailing as he gracelessly fell off of the couch and into the floor.

“I told you we should have tied him up,” the male voice from earlier— _what had Kate called him? Chris?—_ commented.

“Like Kate wanted?” another male voice questioned.

Stiles’ head was splitting, causing him to reach a hand behind his head to inspect where Kate had struck him.

“If he is who Isaac said he was, Derek’s already going to be pissed with what Kate did,” the woman commented as she continued to inspect Stiles.

“Excuse me,” Stiles started, gaining the attention of all three of them. “But who are you?”

The tall, dark-skinned man laughed as he ducked his head. “I can see why Derek is amused by him.”

Stiles was about to open his mouth when he noticed the woman leaning in closer to him. “Hi?” He greeted her.

“Hi,” she smiled. “I’ve never seen a fox this close before.”

“You’ll have to excuse Erica,” Chris began. “She’s harmless though.”

“Yeah, _harmless_ ,” the other man replied with a laugh.

“This is Boyd,” Chris gestured towards the man that just spoke. “I’m Chris and the woman who hit you over the head was Kate—my sister.”

“Oh,” Stiles replied, accepting Erica’s offered hand as he tried to stand. “I’m here to see—”

“Derek, we know,” Chris replied.

“Isaac recognized you immediately,” Erica explained. “He scurried off to find Derek before Kate does.”

“Hopefully he does,” Boyd replied, his arms resting over his chest.

“Then you know why I’m here,” Stiles asked, wobbling some as he still felt light headed. He thanked Erica when she helped him sit back on the couch.

“The guards were warned to expect a fox approaching the walls, carrying a Hale pendant,” Chris explained.

Stiles’ hand immediately went to where the pendant should have been resting against his chest. _It’s gone!_

“Kate took it,” Erica explained before Stiles could ask.

“I mean you no harm or disrespect,” Stiles started.

“We know, prince,” Chris replied.

“You don’t—” Stiles stopped when he noticed the three guards all straighten, preparing for something. _Someone. Derek._

“—my pendant to give!” Derek’s voice erupted from the hallway as he slammed the doors open.

Stiles turned his head to notice Derek was glaring at the blonde guard next to him. The same blonde guard from the meeting at the Druid’s territory. Holding the pendant Derek had given Stiles. _Kate. Wait … she knew who I was and she still … hit me on the head_.

“You gave it to the Omega fox responsible for your sister’s death?” Kate challenged with a scoff.

Stiles saw the look Erica and Boyd exchanged with each other, knowing that what they were witnessing wasn’t exactly a new development. He looked back at Derek and Kate and noticed the way Derek gently growled at Kate, both of them holding each other’s glare.

Chris cleared his throat in an attempt to gain everyone’s attention. “We still have our guest,” he informed them.

Derek’s growling immediately stopped, turning his gaze to look at Stiles. Kate’s gaze unfortunately followed.

Stiles felt uncertain about what to do, nervously ducking his head. _You track all the way through the woods, get inside the Hale palace, and now you don’t know what to say? Dishonor on you, Stiles Stilinski_.

Derek snatched the pendant from Kate’s hand, fixing her with a look stating that he would speak with her later. He moved further into the room, stopping only a few steps from Stiles.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles started before Derek could talk. “You said to come, but my father would never have let me come. I tried to find you yesterday morning, but the Druids said your family left early. So then I had to write this awful letter explaining to my guard and my father that I wasn’t missing, just hiking through the woods to the Hale palace to basically barter myself away in betrothal, and I’m going to stop talking,” Stiles immediately flushed when he realized he was rambling. He looked up at Derek, catching sight of the small smile pulling at his lips as he observed him. He unfortunately didn’t miss the way Kate was glaring at him.

“I actually didn’t think you would show,” Derek admitted, gaining Stiles’ attention.

“I was hesitant at first, not knowing what kind of welcoming I would get,” Stiles nervously laughed when he noticed Derek arching his eyebrow in question. “I mean, it is suspicious to have a lone Omega fox just wandering near the palace’s perimeter.”

“Were you treated poorly?” Derek’s voice turned cold and low, completely serious in his questioning.

“Huh?” Stiles looked at Derek before scanning the other guards. “Nothing that wasn’t expected,” he strategically replied.

“Stiles,” Derek started.

“Really, I’m fine,” Stiles stated.

“Kate hit him over the head,” Erica finally stated.

Stiles almost cringed at the glare Kate gave Erica, but he knew he was going to like Erica when she shot her an equally threatening glare before sticking her tongue out.

“Everybody leave us,” Derek finally stated as he turned to look at the others.

Erica and Boyd bowed, walking out together—Boyd pulling Erica the rest of the way out when she blatantly shouldered Kate. Chris bowed, keeping an eye on Kate before he left.

“I said everybody, Kate,” Derek sternly spoke, not bothering to turn and look at her. He released a heavy sigh after noise of the door slamming heavily behind her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized as he sunk down onto the couch.

“For?” Stiles asked as he remained standing.

“Kate hitting you over the head,” Derek replied, closing his eyes. He looked tired, surprisingly at peace with being in a room alone with a fox.

“That’s not your fault,” Stiles replied, taking his time to observe Derek.

“Does your presence here mean that you are accepting the Druid’s suggestion?” Derek asked, avoiding conversation about Kate as he opened his eyes to look at Stiles.

“Does you inviting me here mean that _you_ are accepting the Druid’s suggestion?” Stiles questioned.

Derek released a low chuckle, sitting forward. “Just like a fox to turn a question on a person.”

Stiles ducked his head, taking his comment as a compliment. “Just like a wolf to suspect a fox?”

Derek released a huff of laughter, leaning forward onto his knees as he studied his hands. There was something different in Derek’s manner, as if he was executing motions he had practiced several times.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I did not consider the Druid’s suggestion,” Derek explained, avoiding eye contact with Stiles.

“You really think we can stop all of this?” Stiles weakly asked, his own insecurities about the outcome of their union were beginning to weigh on him.

“I believe that killing each other has never created anything good,” Derek replied. “We need to teach younger generations that we, as their elders, are able to put our hatred aside, and accept one another. We need to try _something_ to show that both our species can live in harmony without harming one another.”

Stiles stared at Derek, his head slowly nodding in agreement. He never thought Derek would stay true to his convictions, especially when it came down to signing away his future happiness. “Alright,” he answered. “Then I guess we should break the news to your family first?” There was a faintly playful tone in Stiles’ question, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Derek rewarded him with a faint smile. He stood, gently twisting and turning the pendant in his hands as he looked down at it. “I gave this to you not only as a guarantee to protect you, but as a token of affection as well.” He looked up at Stiles, seeing the obvious surprise on his face.

“I didn’t know that’s what it meant,” Stiles replied. “I don’t have a token of my own to give.”

“You accepting this is token enough,” Derek softly replied.

Stiles noticed the way Derek’s brow creased, a pensive look falling over his features. _Must be difficult to give something so meaningful to someone so … meaningless_. “I’d be honored,” he commented. “To have it back, that is. Because I did have it, but then the guard kind of took it from me. After the whole,” Stiles mimicked the gesture of hitting himself on the head.

“Again, I apologize about that,” Derek stated as he moved forward to clasp the chain back around Stiles’ neck.

Stiles extended his neck some, an attempt to make it easier for Derek to clasp the chain. He immediately froze when he noticed how tense Derek was, realizing that he inadvertently was offering his neck to Derek. He was unsure how to react, not wanting to insult Derek by pulling away. A shiver ran up his spine when Derek’s thumb caressed the base of his neck, slowly running around to his throat as it traced the line of the chain. He looked up at Derek, somewhat disappointed when Derek’s hand fell from him.

Derek cleared his throat before turning to the door, offering his hand to Stiles. “I had Isaac call an emergency meeting in the throne room. My family should be gathered there by now.”

Stiles nodded, not trusting his voice as he slipped his hand into Derek’s, allowing him to lead him out of the room and down the hallways.

There was no conceivable way Stiles could have memorized the route they took, too many twist and turns compared to the Stilinski castle. His grip tightened around Derek’s hand when he noticed they stopped outside an intricately decorated door.

“You’ll be fine,” Derek whispered to him as the doors opened. He lead them into the room as Stiles started to gravitate closer to Derek.

“Did you sneak him here in your luggage?” Peter questioned when he noticed Stiles was the one behind Derek, hands gently clasped together as they entered the throne room.

“Derek,” Talia started as she stood from her throne. “Please tell me John knows his son is here.”

“He knows, well, or he will know. I don’t know if he’ll be happy about it,” Stiles replied, gently rubbing the back of his head. He immediately regretted speaking once he heard Peter’s laugh, thinking he did something wrong.

“I like him,” Peter commented. “Certainly won’t have a dull day with him around.”

“Peter,” Talia partially groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Hey, Derek is your pup, not mine. I did not raise him to perform stunts of insanity like having the _Omega Fox Prince_ over for dinner.”

 _Is that what they call me?_ Stiles questioned. He started to think about the names his people had given to the Hales and quickly realized that they were just as guilty of labeling names with stories. _Stories … Oh no, there are probably stories about me._

“What is the emergency meet—” Cora started to question as she entered the room, freezing in her spot when she saw Stiles. She looked between her mother, uncle and Derek, completely lost.

“Your brother is bringing home strays for dinner,” Peter commented as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Although I think he’s too gangly for an appetizer.”

Derek placed his head in his hand, a wave of embarrassment falling over him. Stiles’ eyes widened slightly, recalling the horror stories he heard about wolves hosting meals with the bodies of slain foxes.

“Peter!” Talia’s groan was louder this time.

Peter held his hands up in a placating manner, offering an amused yet apologetic smile to his sister.

“I apologize, Prince Stiles, for my brother’s behavior,” Talia began.

“You don’t have to apologize. He’s right though, I am too gangly,” Stiles added with a smile. He noticed the shocked expression on Derek’s face, prompting him to arch his eyebrows.

Derek merely shook his head in response.

“Well, you are welcome to join us for dinner, Stiles. However, I must insist that you return to your father—”

“We have to make an announcement,” Derek stated.

“Derek, you haven’t had time—”

“Yes, we have,” Derek challenged. “Stiles and I have agreed.”

“You have?” Cora questioned as she stepped closer. “Derek, what about—”

“Nothing is going to change our minds,” Derek boldly stated in an attempt to stop his family from protesting.

Stiles slowly observed the Hales, taking them in as they let Derek’s words completely sink in. Cora was young and beautiful, but Stiles guessed she took after her father. Her skin was paler than Derek and his mother, similar to her uncle. The one trait all the Hale siblings had in common were the dark locks of their hair—hair inherited from Talia. Talia regally stood, observing both Stiles and Derek from a distance. Peter appeared to be the most out of place among the Hales, standing off to the side as his smile of amusement turned into a pensive, unsure look.

“Very well,” Talia finally spoke. “If you both wish to go through with this, then I will not stand in your way. However, there is no going back once the marking ceremony is complete. You both know that, correct?”

Stiles looked at Derek, knowing that he didn’t think about the implications of having a mate. Mates were even after death. He would be marked as another’s for the rest of his life. His every day would be a compromise of them splitting their time between duty and each other. His heats would no longer be spent alone. Stiles flushed when he thought of the last one.

“I do,” Derek stated without looking at Stiles.

Stiles felt uneasy when Derek refused to look at him before he replied. He dragged his eyes away from Derek to look at Talia. “I do,” he softly echoed Derek’s words. Apparently that was all they needed to say to get Talia to consent.

Stiles followed Talia’s advice and composed a letter to his father, telling him of his location and his plan to follow through with publically announcing Derek as his mate. He prayed his father wouldn’t have a heart attack from the news, even hoping that his father would opt for living long enough to punish him. _I really am going to be the death of him_.

Dinner followed and was practically uneventful, small conversation about their plans for the following days. Cora continued to ask Stiles questions about his culture, sighing in disappointment when her assumptions were proven wrong.

“Do you dance?” Cora asked.

“Dance?” Stiles asked in confusion.

“It’s one of many wolf traditions,” Talia explained.

“Oh, I’m afraid not,” Stiles replied with a small frown. “Our traditions have been limited ever since …” He looked down at his plate, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Ever since my mother’s death and the death of my … former-intended mate.”

Talia nodded, a small frown covering her features. “We know how that can change things.”

Cora looked over at Derek, startled when Peter gently tossed a roll onto her plate. Stiles made no show that he could tell Peter was trying to get Cora to stop looking at Derek. An uncomfortable silence fell between them until Stiles cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry to dampen the mood,” Stiles turned to Cora. “I may not know the dancing traditions, but I would like to learn.” He was surprised by the smile that covered Cora’s mouth.

“You opened a big box with that, young prince,” Talia explained with an amused tone.

“Cora is our star dancer,” Peter commented as he lifted his wine goblet.

“Derek’s wonderful,” Cora admitted to Stiles.

Stiles turned to look at Derek across the table. He noticed Derek was staring at Cora with slightly wide eyes. “Are you?” He asked with a faint smile.

Derek turned his attention to Stiles, uncomfortably shifting in his chair before staring down at his plate. “I used to be. I don’t anymore.”

“Oh,” Stiles nodded, looking down at his own plate.

“After the marking ceremony, there will be a festival,” Cora excitedly explained to Stiles. She turned to look at Talia. “Won’t there be, mother?”

“I suppose if anything calls for celebration, it’s the end of this war,” Talia replied, sensing the unease between Derek and Stiles.

“You’ll be able to dance then, Stiles,” Cora explained. “It’s custom that—”

“Cora,” Derek spoke her name quickly. “We don’t even know if we’re having a festival. You’re going to overwhelm him.”

Stiles looked at Derek before looking at the other Hales for a hint at what he was missing. There was something bothering Derek about the idea of celebrating being mates with Stiles. And that made Stiles feel worse about everything. He tried to hide his frown behind the rim of his wine goblet.

“So, Stiles,” Peter started to break the silence. “Is it true that Omegas go through heats?”

Stiles choked on his wine, almost spitting it back into his goblet as he coughed through the rest of it. He was thankful for Cora’s open palm smacking into his back in an attempt to knock the cough free.

“Peter!” Talia harshly whispered.

“What?” Peter tried to innocently question. “I think Derek will have to know that for future reference, won’t he?” He turned to look at Derek, not bothering to hide his grin when he saw Derek’s glare. He merely shrugged, drinking more of his wine.

“Thank you,” Stiles mumbled to Cora, his face flushed to an even further shade of red.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Talia started. “Peter can be hard to handle sometimes.”

“And you all love me,” Peter muttered into his wine.

“It’s alright,” Stiles replied. “And to answer your question, yes we do.”

Peter managed to gracefully choke on his wine, a slow smile covering his features. “I didn’t think you would have it in you to respond.”

“I’m not embarrassed of my biology,” Stiles explained. “I’m just not used to discussing it with others besides my physician.”

“Physician?” Talia questioned. “Will you need—”

“Oh, no!” Stiles said in a hurry. “I didn’t mean to worry you or anything. My heats are normal, as far as I can tell. There are so few Omegas in existence that everything known about us is more myth than known fact.”

All the Hales were staring at Stiles now, waiting for him to continue.

“My dear boy, you can’t admit that and then not explain,” Peter replied.

“Oh, um, well,” Stiles looked down at his hands. “There are myths of some heats ending in death for the Omega.”

“That sounds frightening,” Peter commented. “Never thought someone could die from sex.”

“It’s more the lack of care the Omega receives during their heats,” Stiles explained. “Starvation, dehydration, things like that.”

“I think I’m going to do Derek the favor and be the one that asks: how long do heats last?” Peter asked, ignoring Derek blatantly kicking him under the table.

“It’s different for every Omega,” Stiles replied, taking a moment to drink more wine. _I need to be drunk, this is not the appropriate conversation to be having with future in-laws!_

“For you?” Peter questioned.

“Stiles, you don’t have to answer that,” Talia replied, giving Peter a look that told him to drop it.

“Usually a week,” Stiles stated, uncertain why he continued to meet Peter’s questions as if they were challenges.

“A week?” Peter asked in disbelief.

“I hate to contribute to this conversation and make you uncomfortable, Stiles,” Talia started. “But are there any ‘precautions’ we need to take to accommodate your heats?”

“Um, no,” Stiles partially lied. He knew they heard the skip in his heartbeat. He knew Derek heard it the minute he sat up straighter, finally looking at Stiles without being afraid of being caught.

“If you prefer to discuss it in private, I wouldn’t mind,” Talia stated.

“There is nothing that _you_ can do, your majesty,” Stiles admitted. He didn’t want to admit that his heat would be different with a mate. That he wouldn’t be able to get himself through it, and that he’d have to ask Derek to help him. He felt horrible for even thinking about it.

“Ah, you’re going to need Derek to kno—”

Derek abruptly stood from the table, stopping Peter from finishing his sentence, much to everyone else’s relief. Talia still shot Peter a look that told him he was crossing the line.

“It’s late,” Derek started, looking over at Stiles. “I’ll show you to your room,” added as he started to walk away from the table.

Stiles nodded, turning to bow his head to the other Hales. “Thank you for dinner,” he stated as he stood.

“Thank you for indulging my brother’s questions,” Talia replied, nodding her head to Stiles.

Stiles offered a small smile before following after Derek. They walked through the hallway in silence, both of them not wanting to comment on what Peter had been saying. It was embarrassing enough that Stiles hadn’t thought about explaining his heats to Derek. He recalled how his physician explained to him that an Omega’s heat was different from a Beta’s; an Alpha may react much the same to both heats, however an Omega’s can drive an Alpha insane with lust—it was how Omegas survived so long in both species. By acquiring an Alpha, an Omega was guaranteed to survive—guaranteed to be chosen over a Beta or other Alpha.

Stiles recalled his first heat striking him after Malia’s death, the way Scott backed away from him, knowing that there was something different. Scott practically threw himself from the room, confused why his wolf was telling him to claim his best friend. Stiles had to learn the hard way that no one was allowed to see him for the long week it had lasted, locked away in his room with sympathetic Betas guarding his door. He was miserable, weak and exhausted when it finally broke. He since had gotten used to dealing with his heats, becoming more of a menial chore than something to look forward to. His heats however were unpredictable, randomly triggering weeks early at times.

“This is your room,” Derek’s voice broke Stiles from his thoughts.

“Oh, thank you,” Stiles weakly replied, leaning to look through the door Derek had opened. It was a spacious room, accompanied by the luxuries of a bathtub and fireplace. The bed was much bigger than Stiles’ own bed at home. _Big enough for two_ … “Where is your room?” he weakly asked.

Derek tensed at the question, turning his head to look down the hallway. “My room is just down there,” he gestured his head to the end of the hall. “I’ll be able to hear you if anything happens,” he paused as he watched Stiles shift his weight. “But I promise you, nothing will happen to you here.”

Stiles nodded, grateful Derek thought far enough ahead to take into account his uneasiness.

“I’ll leave you to sleep, then,” Derek stated, hesitating before slightly bowing his head. He started to turn, prepared to head to his own room when he felt Stiles’ hand reach out and grasp his wrist. He turned his head to look at Stiles’ hand, curious about Stiles’ intent.

“Sorry,” Stiles immediately apologized, removing his hand. “I—um,” he paused before shaking his head. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry for delaying you.”

“Delaying me from sleep?” Derek questioned.

 _Or other activities_ , Stiles thoughts drifted to the way Derek allowed Kate to challenge him, as if she was accustomed to such things.

“I imagine you are exhausted from your travels,” Derek offered. “We can talk about things tomorrow, when you’re more rested.”

Stiles nodded, turning to enter his room before he hesitated in the doorway. “What Peter was saying,” he started, voice soft and weak. “About my, um, heats,”—he flushed at the word—“What I’m saying is that we don’t have to go through with this. Any of this. We gave it serious thought, but I don’t expect you to not have doubts. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to do this. I’m sure we can find another way; perhaps broker a treaty. Our families both seem determined to end the war, perhaps peace is an option through that.”

Derek had waited for Stiles to finish, carefully watching Stiles’ hands flail about as he rambled. “Do you not want to proceed as planned?” was all Derek asked.

“I’m saying that I will have to ask you to do things in the future that you may not feel comfortable with,” Stiles explained, staring at Derek’s feet. “Because of my heats,” he softly added.

“I am not expecting you to share your bed with me,” Derek started. “But I will spend your heats with you.”

Stiles felt the tips of his ears burn red as he looked up at Derek. He wasn’t expecting Derek to be openly willing to the idea of seeing Stiles through his heats. If anything, Stiles expected him to offer finding another Alpha, one willing to bed an Omega.

“If that’s what you want,” Derek added, uncertain if Stiles’ silence was from relief or from panic.

“That would be … good,” Stiles hesitantly nodded. “I would appreciate that.”

Derek gave his own responsive nod. “Was that your only concern?”

“It was part of it,” Stiles replied. “I just wish to not make you uncomfortable,” he explained.

“It is my wish to not make you uncomfortable as well,” Derek softly replied.

Stiles smiled in response, an ease falling over him for the first time in weeks. He looked up at Derek when he took the last step between them. He closed his eyes as Derek leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead. It was similar to the way they parted in the Druid’s territory.

“Rest well, Stiles,” Derek softly spoke as he turned to take his leave of him.

“Good night,” Stiles called after Derek, slinking into his room before shutting his door quietly. He sighed, sluggishly moving towards his bed. He almost fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. He dreamed of freely running through the forest in his fox form, accompanied by the soft beating sound of footsteps running beside him. He caught a quick glimpse of black fur and red eyes moving with him, thoughts roaming to a particular Alpha wolf sleeping in a room not that far from his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Update:** I noticed a few comments from readers worrying about Derek and Kate, and rather than answer them individually I thought I'd leave an answer here in the note. All I have to say is not to worry your little heads :)  
>  Stiles has to rile himself all up over it before everything comes to light. You and Stiles will be learning more about the true relationship between Derek and Kate in the next chapter. Derek's past has multiple layers of mystery and heartache, and Stiles will slowly peel back those pieces so he can help him heal.


	3. To Run with Wolves

“Rise and shine!” Erica announced as she opened the doors of Stiles’ room.

Stiles jerked awake, flailing as he almost tumbled off the bed. He turned his head to look at Erica who was standing in the open doorway.

“Good morning, Prince Stiles,” Erica grinned as she spoke. She began walking over to him, a slight bounce in her step as she held out the bundle of clothes in her hands.

“Good morning, Erica,” Stiles groggily replied. “So I didn’t dream last night.”

“That depends,” Erica began as a sly smile crossed her face. She gently perched on the edge of Stiles’ bed, observing him. “What did you think happened last night?” She wiggled her eyebrows when Stiles didn’t respond.

“Um, that I came to the Hale palace without a guard or any way to protect myself. I was knocked unconscious and then Derek brought me in front of his family and they proceeded to ask me embarrassing questions,” Stiles surmised the events of the previous night as best as he could.

“Oh,” Erica’s smile fell, turning into a frown. “Yeah, that’s what happened.” She stood, pressing the clothes into Stiles’ lap.

“What are these?” Stiles asked.

“They’re Derek’s,” Erica replied as she moved to the mirror inspecting her makeup.

“If they are Derek’s then why—”

“You didn’t bring clothes with you, and you need to look presentable for the announcement today,” Erica explained.

“Right,” Stiles replied, completely forgetting about the announcement.

“They’ll help you smell more like Derek, too,” Erica added as she held her hair up, pushing it into a new hairstyle for her to inspect in the mirror.

“That will help,” Stiles mentioned.

“The only ones who know about this being a political arrangement are Kate, Chris, Boyd, Isaac, and myself. Well, and the older Hales, of course,” Erica started to explain. “Everyone else is convinced that you and Derek met in the Druid’s territory and fell madly in love. It’s all very poetic.”

“Wait,” Stiles hesitated in pulling his shirt off. “Older Hales?” He looked up at Erica. As if on cue, there was the sound of dual giggling coming from the doorway. He turned his head to see two young boys, no older than five, peering into the room to catch a glimpse of Stiles.

“You two are supposed to be with your tutor,” Erica chastised. “What do you think your mother is going to do when she finds out you skipped again?”

“Erica, no!” One of the boys cried out as they came into view, running to wrap their arms around her legs.

“I told you this was a bad idea!” The other one called.

“They look like Derek,” Stiles commented when he noticed the boys were twins.

“These are the younger Hales, who shouldn’t have been eavesdropping,” Erica replied, giving the boys a stern look.

“We just wanted a chance to see him before the announcement,” the twin wrapped around Erica’s legs stated.

“We’ve never seen a fox before,” the other twin said to Stiles.

“Never?” Stiles questioned.

“Have you seen wolves before you met Derek?” The same twin asked as he approached Stiles.

“Actually, my best friend Scott is one,” Stiles explained.

“Did you two forget your manners?” Erica questioned the twins.

“Sorry, I’m Alex,” the twin near Stiles offered.

“I’m Mal,” the twin hiding behind Erica’s legs stated.

“It’s nice to meet you two,” Stiles offered a smile.

“Are you going to be Derek’s mate?” Alex asked.

“Um, yes,” Stiles stated, looking up at Erica.

“Are you going to make babies?” Mal questioned.

“I don’t know if Stiles can do that, Mal,” Erica stated with a small laugh.

“But he’s an Omega,” Mal replied.

“Uncle Peter said Omegas make special mates,” Alex explained.

“So can you have a baby?” Mal asked.

“Alright, you two,” Talia’s voice caused the twins to scramble until they were standing together. “Today is a big day for Stiles and Derek. And you’re supposed to be in class right now.”

“We’re sorry,” the twins apologized in unison.

Talia waited with her arms crossed over her chest as the twins solemnly walked by her. They laughed when she playfully pretended to claw at their backs, ushering them to run down the hallway.

“I’m sorry if my sons were unpleasant in their straightforwardness,” Talia offered when she turned to look at Stiles.

“Oh, no,” Stiles shook his head. “They were fine. I didn’t know Derek had little brothers.”

“We tried to hide them away from this war as best we could. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until after my husband’s funeral,” Talia explained. “They are just pups, forced to grow up without a father.” She lightly shook her head, a potent sadness rolling off of her in waves.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could have stopped this war before then,” Stiles offered.

“Me too,” Talia stated. “Erica,” she turned her head to look at her. “Make sure you help him with understanding what will happen today.”

Erica respectfully nodded.

“If you need anything, Stiles, I will be in throne room preparing for this evening,” Talia explained.

“Of course,” Stiles replied. “Thank you.”

Talia nodded, turning and leaving Stiles with Erica.

“So, what _does_ this announcement entail?” Stiles asked as he turned to Erica, slowly changing out of his shirt and into Derek’s. The strong scent of _Alpha_ and _Derek_ overwhelmed his senses, making his fox purr in appreciation.

“You’ll be accompanying Derek out onto the public scaffolding. Derek will address the people with you at his side, making it public that he intends to take you as his mate this upcoming full moon.”

“I’ll be with him, in front of everyone?” Stiles questioned.

“It’s custom for the intended mate to stay by the Hale’s side during the announcement,” Erica replied.

“Oh,” Stiles felt a tremble roll through his body. He busied his fingers with fastening the laces of the shirt. “Okay.”

“Stiles,” Erica’s voice was soft, comforting as she closed the gap between them. She rested her hand on Stiles’ shoulder in reassurance. “No one will harm you while you are by Derek’s side. To harm someone’s mate is to harm them. Our people are loyal to Derek.”

“I just …” Stiles let out a shaky sigh. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“How would you mess this up?” Erica asked in confusion.

“What if they can tell Derek and I aren’t exactly … intimate? It will ruin the entire thing,” Stiles explained.

“Then be intimate with him,” Erica replied. She smirked when she noticed Stiles’ blush. “I’m not saying jump him in front of everyone. But hold his hand. Wrap your arm around his waist. Touch his chest. Simple actions between two people that share an intimacy with each other.”

“You think Derek wouldn’t mind?” Stiles asked.

“Wolves can become touch starved,” Erica explained. “Trust me, Derek will never turn away your small comforts.”

Stiles nodded, a small warmth rising in his stomach.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“You look nervous,” Stiles stated, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. He offered Derek a shy smile when he turned to look at him. “You look more nervous than I am.”

Derek’s scowl morphed into a frown as he looked away from Stiles, towards the door they were to exit out of in order to climb the scaffolding. Everything they had slowly been working towards was riding on this announcement being accepted by the wolf packs.

“Those are my people out there, Stiles,” Derek finally answered. “And I am about to lie to them in order to save them from their own pride,” he faintly growled. “But it’s still a lie.”

 _A lie that you love me_. It was Stiles’ turn to frown. He never expected Derek to fall in love with him—he didn’t even expect Derek to tolerate him—but Stiles had hoped that Derek would at least grow _fond_ of the idea of being mated to him.

“Ready?” Peter’s voice broke the tension as he moved to the doors, prepared to lead both Stiles and Derek out among the masses.

Derek’s eyes lingered on Stiles before he turned to Peter. He nodded, moving to stand behind him as he offered his hand to Stiles.

Stiles stared at Derek’s hand before looking up at him. He slowly slid his hand into Derek’s, not realizing he was trembling until he slid his fingers between Derek’s. He gave Derek an affirming nod.

“The closer you stand to me, the better,” Derek instructed him.

Stiles silently nodded, his stomach beginning to do somersaults. If he wasn’t freaking out before, he definitely was now. He was about to be surrounded by more wolves at once than he ever had met in his entire life combined. And the only thing stopping them from harming him was their respect for Derek.

“Remember, what the Druids said,” Derek started in a calming, reassuring tone. “Mates do not bow to one another. You are my mate before you are an Omega.” He gently brushed his thumb in circles against Stiles’ skin, a comforting action Stiles was not fully anticipating.

Stiles’ ears were ringing as he allowed Derek to lead him outside, onto the scaffolding. And as far as Stiles was concerned, his doom. He could see the shock move through the crowd in a wave—disgust, fear, anger, misunderstanding.

Stiles listened to Derek’s voice as he addressed the crowd. His very presence shifted from the relaxed, at ease Derek that Stiles saw and conversed with inside the walls of the palace to an authoritative and commanding presence. Stiles noticed the way most of the spectators were staring at him and not Derek. All eyes were on Stiles, waiting for him to reveal himself as an imposter. He slowly wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist, pressing his body into his. He was happy when Derek appeared unphased by the contact, moving to rest his hand on Stiles’ hip in order to hold their bodies together.

 _‘The closer you stand to me, the better,’_ Stiles recalled Derek’s words. He leaned his head against Derek’s shoulder, gently pressing his nose against Derek’s clavicle. He felt the brief rigidness of Derek’s body and was frightened he actually crossed a line.

“After everything they’ve done?” A faceless voice in the crowd called out.

Encouraging murmurs moved through the crowd in a wave. Derek frowned in reaction, looking at Stiles. He reached out, gently caressing his thumb over Stiles’ cheek, sending a warm shock through his body.

“This war has asked me to sacrifice so much,” Derek continued to speak with authority, however he continued to look at Stiles, making it simple for both of them to forget they had an audience. “It has asked that we all make sacrifices we didn’t want to make. Are you asking me to sacrifice my happiness—my love—for an ancient feud?”

Hushed whispers and desperate murmurs erupted throughout the crowd, easily a thousand eyes all focused on the way Derek was holding Stiles.

“No, my Alpha,” a voice finally broke from the crowd. Both Stiles and Derek looked out into the crowd, seeing all eyes turning to the woman who spoke. She was an older woman, gray streaks running through her ebony hair. It wasn’t hard for Stiles to tell that she probably experienced enough of the war to make her desperate for an end. _Desperate enough to accept a fox._

“Continue, Shea,” Derek nodded, calling the woman by name. It never ceased to amaze Stiles that Derek was able to remember his people by name.

“If your happiness lies with the fox prince, _and_ it ends this war, then … then perhaps we have reached better days,” Shea finished. She bowed her head in respect before kneeling as she bared her neck, submitting not only to Derek but to Stiles as well.

Stiles tightened his hold on Derek’s shirt when wolf after wolf slowly began to kneel, baring their necks as they did. It took a few moments, some wolves only submitting out of accepting what the majority was doing, until the entire crowd was kneeling.

Stiles smiled, bowing his head to them in turn. He was surprised when Derek turned him back to face him, pulling their bodies tightly together. His eyes fluttered shut briefly when Derek ran his thumb over his bottom lip, sending a shiver through his body.

“May I?” Derek asked in a soft tone, meant only for Stiles to hear. But it was obvious the crowd caught the words in the wind as several looked up to sneak a peek.

 _Create a display. Clever_ , Stiles thought with a faint smirk covering his lips. “Of course.” He had paused before he added, “My Alpha.” The words were nothing but a breath against Derek’s lips, yet loud enough for the crowd to hear.

The kiss was brief, but thorough enough to be noted by a significant amount of people, which Stiles noticed from approving cheers overwhelming the crowd. Stiles buried his fingers in the material of Derek’s shirt, moving to cling to him. He had to stop himself from chasing after Derek’s lips when he broke the kiss.

Derek moved to clasp Stiles’ hand, lifting his hand to his lips. A brief smile crossed Derek’s face before he started to lead Stiles back towards the palace.

Stiles was relieved when they entered the palace once more, his anxiety quickly shifting to settle on the calm welcoming of the Hale family.

“You did great, Stiles,” Cora stated, gently punching his shoulder in a friendly manner.

Stiles smiled, thanking her. He looked down at his hand when he felt Derek’s fingers untangle from his. His eyes traveled over Derek, noticing how he crossed his arms over his chest, clearly lost in pensive thought. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Peter’s words.

“Nicely done, nephew,” Peter smirked from his spot across the room when Derek glared at him. “I’m only saying that _I_ almost believed that you were in love with him.”

The words cut deeper than Stiles thought they would. He wasn’t ignorant in knowing that their arrangement was political, but it wasn’t uncommon for political arrangements to end in a type of fondness of each other. Happiness, even. His father and mother loved each other deeply, and they were arranged to be mates from a young age, similar to Stiles and Malia.

 _Malia_. It had been months since Stiles actively thought about her. Could he have loved Malia? Could he love _Derek_?

Stiles looked over at Derek when he heard a faint growl come from him.

“Peter,” Talia’s voice caused everyone to stand straighter when they realized they were in her presence. “Today is a day of celebration, not teasing.”

“Of course, sister,” Peter bowed his head in respect. “Apologies, nephew. Stiles. It’s the wine talking.”

Stiles failed at hiding his small scoff. He knew Peter had yet begun to drink, let alone get drunk enough to insult his future Alpha.

“Stiles,” Talia said his name as she approached him. She waited for him to look up at her, a faint smile crossing her features as she embraced him.

Stiles hesitated, unsure in his actions as he slowly brought his hands to rest on her back. He was thankful that his uncertainty didn’t insult Talia. He was new to the whole ‘embracing a wolf’ concept, but not against it. However, being embraced by the head Alpha wolf often confused and frightened him.

“We have a surprise for you,” Talia whispered to him before she pulled back.

“You didn’t have to—”

“You’re family now, Stiles.” Talia smiled at him, her eyes briefly flickering to Derek. She stood back from them as she turned to look at the door she entered through. “You may enter,” she stated in a more regal tone than before.

Stiles felt the smile on his face grow when he saw the person walk through the door. “Scott!” He exclaimed as he quickly made his way across the room to hug him.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Scott apologized as he embraced Stiles back.

Stiles smiled at Scott as he pulled back to look at him. He never thought the Hales would willingly allow one of his guards into the palace, even if that guard were a wolf. He turned to look at Talia as he stated, “Thank you. It means the world to see an old friend.”

Talia nodded, her eyes glancing at Derek briefly. “It was not my idea, young prince.”

Stiles turned to look at Derek, noticing how he looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact with Stiles. He took charge, taking a few cautious steps towards Derek before placing his hand over Derek’s. He smiled at Derek when he looked up at him in surprise. “Thank you,” he offered.

Derek nodded in response, casting his eyes elsewhere in avoiding Stiles’ gaze. “Chris has asked to speak with Scott about bringing in some of your own guards to be housed in the palace. Scott, of course, will be the head of your guard.”

Stiles nodded, keeping his eyes on Derek. He turned to look at Scott, smiling when he noticed Scott bow his head to Derek.

“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to come,” Scott stated.

 _It sounds like Melissa made him memorize that_ , Stiles almost laughed at how out of place it was for Scott to amicably bow to another wolf.

“You’re Stiles’ best friend. Of course you’re welcome,” Derek replied.

Stiles looked back at Derek, noticing that both he and Scott were acting strange. And he couldn’t help but think it had something to do with him stuck in the middle.

The dinner passed in friendly conversation, Talia curving all of Peter’s questions before he could try and rile up Scott enough. Stiles eagerly listened to Scott relay news of his father and the rest of the kingdom.

“The council are less than pleased with your decision,” Scott explained.

Stiles wasn’t surprised. He hardly expected a council filled with Alphas to be pleased with anything he did, let alone broker a peace with the wolves through taking one as a mate. “What did my father tell them?” he questioned.

“He made an announcement a few hours after we discovered your departure,” Scott stated. “He surprisingly wasn’t angry with you. He rolled his eyes and looked towards the sky, asking your mother where you got your recklessness from.”

Stiles smiled, picturing his father sporting a slightly annoyed yet amused look as the guards scurried around him in an attempt to find his missing son.

“He told them that you and Derek are crazy about each other. And that you ran away when he had forbid you to go through with accepting a wolf as your mate,” Scott added.

Stiles’ eyes flickered over to Derek, watching him carefully. If he was surprised by this news, he didn’t show it.

“Your father blamed it on your stubbornness,” Scott continued. “But now that you’ve made an announcement to the wolf clan, there’s really no going back anyways.” He slightly frowned, turning his head to take in the Hale family.

“I don’t wish to go back,” Stiles replied. “This is the right path, Scott.” He moved his hand to cover Scott’s. “The council has no choice but to agree with me once the marking ceremony is complete. They won’t try and have me dethroned either. I’m the only heir to the Stilinski pack. Plus, I have the loyalty of a majority of our people and the guard. You being here is testament to that.”

Stiles looked up when he heard a chair’s legs abruptly scraping across the floor. He noticed that it was Derek who was quickly moving away from the table without verbally excusing himself. His hand fell away from Scott’s as he looked at Talia and the other Hales for an explanation.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to him about it, Omega prince,” Peter was the only one who spoke, lifting his goblet to his lips. “Alphas are very shielded.”

Those were the only words offered to him as the rest returned to their meals. Stiles parted from Scott with a hug, wishing him luck with Chris and urging him to avoid Kate at all costs.

“She sounds like a _delight_ ,” Scott sarcastically commented.

“She’s insane,” Stiles replied. He omitted the part where Kate had glared at him every chance she got, making Stiles turn around and take alternate routes through the palace if he saw her coming down the hallway.

Stiles bid Scott goodnight as he headed for his own room. He noticed the door was partially opened, causing him to hesitate. He slowly peered into the normally dark room, catching sight of a figure sitting on the edge of his bed. A figure Stiles knew to be none other than Derek. He easily slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He frowned when Derek didn’t demonstrate an intent of moving, let alone registering that he knew Stiles had entered the room.

“Are you feeling well?” Stiles asked as he moved forward.

Derek stood, shaking his head as if he was arguing with himself. “I shouldn’t have come into your bed chambers without asking. I apologize for that,” he finally stated.

“That’s okay. Did, um, did you wish to talk?” Stiles asked, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt— _Derek’s shirt_ —as he nervously waited for Derek to answer him.

“Talk,” Derek stated the word as if the concept was completely foreign to him. “No.”

“You seemed upset earlier,” Stiles replied.

“I just realized that I know so little about the person intended to be my mate,” Derek replied as he looked up at Stiles.

“I’m not against you getting to know me,” Stiles offered. “I would actually like to get to know you, as well.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very good at telling stories,” Derek replied with a soft smile. He started to move as if he was about to leave Stiles.

“No, but you seem like a good listener,” Stiles replied with a smile of his own. “A good enough listener to not grow annoyed with my ramblings.”

And just like that, Stiles found himself sharing details with Derek that he never thought he would share with anyone, let alone someone he was raised to fear since childhood. They were both on the floor, legs sprawled out in front of them as they sat side by side, lazily reclining against the edge of Stiles’ bed. His anxiety leveled out until he was comfortable telling story after story, his hands animatedly telling the stories. He smiled back at Derek whenever he successfully made him laugh, and no matter how big or small it was, Stiles could tell it was a heartfelt laugh. He told him stories about terrorizing the cook with practical jokes, playing games with Scott and Malia, and even about his mother.

“She used to hum as she tended the flowers in the garden,” Stiles recalled. “She would never let on that she heard me whenever I tried to sneak up on her. She’d act surprised and laugh with me as she set me down in her lap, showing me how to care for the different flowers.” He felt the tears sting his eyes as he recalled the last few days of her illness.

“I ripped up every single one of those flowers the night she died,” Stiles weakly admitted, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. He remembered his claws replacing his nails, his breathing heavy as his fangs descended, heart beating loudly in his ears as he dug up the dirt. He was crying so hard he couldn’t sense Melissa come up behind him, until she wrapped him up in her embrace, calming him as he thrashed against her, screaming out that he didn’t want her to touch him. He didn’t want to be calmed by someone else, he wanted his mother, but it’s hard to explain to an eight year old that you’re only trying to help them feel less alone.

“I was so mad. At her. At my dad. Even at myself,”—Stiles let a few tears fall without attempting to wipe them away—“I was mad that those flowers were still alive but that she was dead. That after all the time, the effort that she put into caring for them, and they were going to keep on living. I was mad that I couldn’t be like those flowers and keep from feeling her loss.”

Stiles released a small sob when he felt the weight of Derek’s arm rest across the span of his shoulders, pulling him into his warmth. He shifted his weight, moving his body closer to Derek.

“We’ve both lost so much, Derek,” Stiles stated, wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve. “How do we fix that? How do we fix everyone?”

Derek turned his head, placing a chaste kiss against Stiles’ temple. He kept close to Stiles, his words merely a few breaths against Stiles’ skin. “We can’t fix it, but we can try to move on. Together.”

Derek held Stiles in his arms until Stiles released a deep yawn, turning his body in against Derek’s as he started to doze. He smiled, placing a kiss into Stiles’ hair as he untangled them from one another. He helped Stiles stand, despite the groaning and complaining coming from the fox.

“It’s late,” Derek replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he stated with a small smile.

“Tomorrow,” Stiles nodded, sensing Derek’s hesitation to leave. He let Derek’s hand slip out of his as he watched him turn towards the door. He shivered, suddenly feeling the absence of the warmth Derek’s arms had provided him moments ago.

“Derek,” Stiles called after him. His stomach dipped and twisted when Derek turned to look at him. Instead of asking him to stay, like his fox begged him to do, he went with what he thought was the safer question. “Would it … would it be alright if I show Scott around the palace tomorrow?” He was staring down at his hands as he spoke, unsure if he was crossing the line.

Derek’s entire body tensed, his presence shifting from melancholy to angered, as if everything they shared over the last few hours meant nothing. _One step forward, two steps back_.

“What you do with McCall is none of my concern,” Derek nearly growled as he turned his back on Stiles.

“What I …” Stiles’ eyes narrowed when he realized what Derek meant. _He’s mad that I held Scott’s hand … he thinks I …_ “Oh, you arrogant asshole.” His hands tightened into fists, glaring daggers into Derek’s back. “You’re accusing me of infidelity?”

“You’re not my mate yet,” Derek replied, his back still towards Stiles.

“Get out,” Stiles’ voice wavered under his anger. He refused to admit it was his hurt from Derek’s accusation.

Derek finally turned to look at Stiles. There wasn’t a doubt in Stiles’ mind that Derek could tell he was shaking, despite his best attempts to hide it, but Stiles was determined to not break down in front of him.

“I said, get out,” Stiles repeated, this time pointing at the door. “I get insulted by others on a daily basis, I don’t need it from you too.”

Derek continued to look at him, his expression unreadable. He took a step towards Stiles, hesitating when Stiles took a step back.

“Fine,” Derek replied, turning to head for the door.

Stiles jumped a little when the door slammed after him. He slowly sank down onto the bed, shocked that he actually managed to yell at an Alpha—his intended Alpha mate. _What the hell am I doing?_

~0~0~0~0~0~

“My brother’s an idiot,” Cora replied as she pulled another book from the library’s shelf.

“I feel as if I’m walking on glass to please him, but he thinks I’m somehow trying to get _him_ to walk on the glass instead. It’s exhausting,” Stiles sighed as he slumped into one of the chairs. He had opted to accompany Cora to the library when he discovered that Scott was busy meeting with Chris to oversee the details of security.

Scott was driving himself crazy with preparing for Stiles’ father to arrive, shuffling guards around and negotiating who was to protect Stiles as well as the possibility of having fox guards brought into the palace. Scott was more hesitant about who was to guard Stiles than anything, only easing up when Stiles informed him at breakfast that he trusted Erica and Boyd, which meant he could too.

Stiles tried to ignore the fact that Derek wasn’t present at breakfast or dinner for the past few days. Every time he inquired about him, the Hales commented that they didn’t know where he slithered away to. Stiles actually laughed when Peter told him that Derek was probably hiding in his wolf den, connected by an intricate series of tunnels underground that led to secret entrances all over the land. (Stiles told him that he should be a writer, his imagination would be able to generate a nice income).

So here Stiles was. In the library with Cora, complaining about her absent brother.

“Derek is,” Cora paused, trying to find the correct words. “Derek pretends he doesn’t care—if that makes sense. He likes to act as if everyone is the enemy even if he hopelessly loves them.” She watched Stiles for a few moments before walking over to him. She leaned against the table as she continued. “We’ve lost a lot of loved ones to this war. Derek responded worse than all of us. He closed himself off and grieved alone—if he allowed himself to grieve at all, that is.”

“So he’s being an asshole because he cares?” Stiles asked.

“In a way? Yes,” Cora replied.

“I don’t know how I’m going to live with him,” Stiles groaned.

Cora laughed, turning her body to face him. “I’ve lived with him for my entire life. You’ll manage.”

Stiles ducked his head, looking down at the hem of his trousers— _Derek’s trousers_. His entire wardrobe consisted of borrowed clothes from Derek, making his absence even more notable. He thought about that night, how Derek actually opened up, offering a short story for every dozen on Stiles’ own. Derek had completely lifted his mask of indifference only to slap it back on right before he left. “He hates me,” he finally admitted. He winced when Cora dropped one of the books in her hands. _Maybe admitting that to his sister isn’t the best thing to do_.

“He doesn’t—” Cora paused, sighing as she moved to sit at the table beside Stiles. “He doesn’t _hate_ you.”

“He doesn’t love me either,” Stiles replied, looking up at Cora.

“Do you love him?” Cora challenged back.

Stiles shrugged. “I could. I mean … I’m trying.”

“Derek’s dreamt of having a mate ever since he could understand what having a mate really meant,” Cora explained.

Stiles arched his eyebrows at her.

“Not just sexually,” Cora partially groaned as she playfully punched Stiles’ shoulder. “But to have someone you can confess things to. Someone who understands you inside and out. Someone who doesn’t think of sacrificing as sacrifice, because the other person means the world to them. Because you complete each other. Someone who is completely yours, and you get to be completely theirs in return.”

 _‘I just realized that I know so little about the person intended to be my mate.’_ Stiles recalled what Derek said that night. “And now I feel more like shit than before,” he sighed.

“Don’t. Especially over pushing Kate out of the way,” Cora replied.

Stiles looked at Cora, surprised by her statement. No one had bothered to tell Stiles the truth about Kate’s relationship with Derek. Either they thought it was unimportant, or that Stiles would learn to live without knowing.

“Kate pretty much tricked Derek into thinking about her as a mate. She’s a manipulative bitch.” Cora grimaced at the thought of Kate being attached to Derek for the rest of his life.

“Tell me how you really feel,” Stiles replied, shocked that Cora thought so negatively of someone Derek was going to make his mate.

“Derek’s been closed off for a long time,” Cora explained. “Ever since Pai—” she immediately stopped, looking over at Stiles.

“Who?” Stiles asked.

“I shouldn’t tell you this. It’s Derek’s story to tell, not mine,” Cora replied as she got up.

“Cora,” Stiles called after her. “Derek is like talking to a brick wall, he’s not going to tell me anything unless it’s about his distaste for me.”

“I think that’s unfair.”

Stiles jumped, his arms flailing as he turned around to see Derek standing by the library’s entrance.

“Derek,” Cora plastered on a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Derek shot Cora the typical Hale look that told her they were going to talk later. “I have to talk with Stiles.”

 _This is it. This is how it ends_ , Stiles thought as he observed Derek’s calm composure. _He shouldn’t be that calm. He’s going to kill me and dispose of the body_.

“Right,” Cora nodded. “Well, I have to go check in with Isaac.” She winked at Stiles as she passed him, a small encouragement. She placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek, whispering something to him that Stiles couldn’t catch but caused Derek to roll his eyes at her.

Derek waited until Cora closed the doors behind her, leaving him alone with Stiles in the library, before he started to move towards Stiles.

“To be fair, about what I said about you being a brick wall, you do the whole silent treatment justice,” Stiles partly rambled as he turned to inspect the books Cora was shelving. He pulled one of the books out, nervously flipping through its pages. “And I don’t know what you could really say to me that Cora can’t hear.”

Derek ignored Stiles’ rambling as he asked, “Would you care to join me and my family tomorrow night on a run?”

Stiles wanted to ignore him, but the minute he heard the word ‘run,’ his fox perked up, whining at the opportunity to be allowed to freely run through the woods. He knew this was Derek’s form of apology, finally conversing with Stiles after their ‘fight’ the other night.

“Do you think that is best?” Stiles questioned, not wanting to admit that Derek didn’t have to try and apologize, because Stiles was never really mad at him.

“It’s custom for future mates to run with the pack prior to the marking ceremony,” Derek replied.

“A safe political answer,” Stiles replied, keeping his eyes fixed on his book.

“Stiles,” Derek released an aggravated sigh as he spoke.

“I wouldn’t belong running in a pack of wolves,” Stiles stated.

“I’m sorry I questioned your relationship with McCall,” Derek nearly growled. “Now that you’ve insulted my entire family, would you care to join us still?”

Stiles looked up from his book, not realizing that his former statement would have insulted the Hale family. He had intended to annoy Derek, not insult him. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’ve been on edge and I didn’t mean to insult you or your family. I’m still hurt that—”

“That I implied that you shared your bed with Scott,” Derek finished Stiles’ sentence.

Stiles nodded in response.

“I shouldn’t have let my anger get the better of me. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“It wouldn’t have stopped you from thinking it,” Stiles replied.

Derek looked up at Stiles, realization dawning on him. “I never thought …” He released a groaning sigh as he rubbed a hand over his face. “McCall smells like you.”

Stiles looked up at Derek, slowly closing the book in his hands. “He’s been my best friend since we were five. My guard since we were twelve. Of course he smells like me.”

“You’re supposed to be my mate, not his,” Derek softly grumbled.

Stiles’ eyes widened when he realized what Derek meant. “You’re … you’re jealous that Scott smells like me?”

Derek shot him a look that told Stiles he didn’t appreciate being made fun of.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing to be jealous, but … Scott? Really? Ew,” Stiles partially rambled, unable to think of himself ever being with Scott as mates.

“It still matters, to me and my wolf,” Derek admitted.

“But you smell like Kate!” Stiles immediately regretted speaking the words, knowing that, according to both fox and wolf custom,  an Alpha was free to choose polygamy over monogamy if they were unmated. It shouldn’t matter to an Omega if their prospected Alpha carried the scent of another. But it bothered Stiles. Whenever he was close to Derek, he could always catch the faint, perfumed smell he knew belonged to Kate.

“What?” Derek asked as he looked up at Stiles in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoke out of turn,” Stiles began to apologize as he ducked his head.

“Stiles, don’t apologize for speaking your mind,” Derek quickly corrected him. “Whatever your tutors told you about wolves or Alphas, forget it. You are my equal, and I want you to speak your mind.”

“You sometimes smell like Kate,” Stiles weakly repeated, lifting his head to look at Derek.

“I didn’t know that,” Derek replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about it. “If you thought … my relationship with Kate is complicated. But I am not  _seeing_ her. You are my intended mate. Just you.”

Stiles nodded, uncertain what to say, so he decided to change the subject in hopes that Derek would forget that he knew anything about Kate. “But I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t think joining you for a run is the best idea. The truth is, I haven’t been on a run since … Since before Malia’s death, years ago. I’m afraid I’d just slow you down.”

“A fox slowing a wolf down?” Derek questioned as he arched an eyebrow.

Stiles released a small laugh, shaking his head. “I guess it does sound a little ridiculous, when you put it that way.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was calm—at ease—as he spoke. “You are going to be my mate, which means you are a part of my pack now, just as I am a part of yours. A pack is not weakened by any member, only made stronger.” He held Stiles’ gaze as he looked up at him. “So, I’m going to ask you one more time: would you care to join _your_ pack tomorrow night for a run?”

Stiles hesitated, searching Derek’s eyes for a hint that he actually didn’t want Stiles to join him, that he was just following tradition. Stiles saw nothing but patience, bordering on begging for him to agree.

“I’d love to,” Stiles softly replied, his fox prancing with happiness that it was going to be able to run through the forest for the first time in years.

“Both the McCalls and your father are welcomed to join us, if you wish,” Derek noted.

“I would rather share my first run with your family … with you. If that’s alright,” Stiles replied. He noticed the way Derek looked at him, surprised by his statement.

“You’re sure?” Derek asked, uncertain if he wanted to ask him, afraid that he’d change his mind.

“Melissa and my father won’t be arriving until the morning of the ceremony the next day. And Scott could care less while there are security risks. And I am sure that I would like to spend the run with just you and your family,” Stiles nodded.

Derek nodded, turning to leave Stiles when he hesitated, partially turning back towards him. “I shouldn’t have abruptly left the other night. Especially after you confided in me. My pride forced me to act out.”

“Your pride?” Stiles questioned. “Not just your jealousy?”

“You felt guilty when you asked about showing Scott around.”

“I felt … I felt guilty not asking you to stay,” Stiles abruptly admitted, eyes widening when he realized what he admitted. “Uh, to stay and sleep. For comfort. Nothing but that. Completely amicable. I wasn’t … I’m going to stop talking now,” he sighed as he turned his head from Derek, a blush creeping across his face.

Derek cleared his throat before he spoke. “I had misunderstood.”

“Clearly,” Stiles mumbled. “You Alphas and your easily bruised egos need to be kept in check.”

“We’re massive babies,” Derek quipped back.

Stiles released a small chuckle, happy that Derek’s anger that night wasn’t anger at all, just misunderstanding; just his jealousy that Stiles may have favored another over him.

“Tomorrow night then,” Derek stated.

“You’re not going to disappear again, are you?” Stiles asked, looking up at him.

“Never,” Derek instantly replied.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The night air was cool, the moon almost at its full stage. It placed a sense of wonder in Stiles as he took in the atmosphere around him. The last time he had been out in the woods, he was hiking towards the Hale palace; towards uncertain danger. Now he was out on a run with the Hale family—his future family and pack members.

“Are you alright?” Talia asked, loosely folding her robe around her as she waited with for the others.

Stiles looked at Talia, partially clutching the material of his own robe. “A little nervous,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to do this,” Talia replied, delicately placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I just haven’t been running since before Malia’s death,” Stiles tried to reassure her. “And to be running without my father is strange.”

“Even with the peace being claimed, there are still those who intent both you and your father harm. To place you in the same place would be dangerous. Especially during a run.”

Stiles nodded, feeling a heavy sigh fall over him. “That’s not why I didn’t invite him. This is … special for me. To be running with you for the first time.” He turned to look at Talia. “I’m afraid of messing up your run. I want to be here, I do. I just don’t want to do something wrong.”

“This is as much your run as it is mine. Perhaps, after the peace has been in place for a while, we’ll be able to have a Stilinski-Hale pack run,” Talia offered.

Stiles looked over at Talia, feeling immediately comforted by her smile. “Thank you,” he replied.

“You’re family,” Talia replied. “And it means a lot to have you here for when I transfer the title of head Alpha to Derek. It means a lot to Derek, too. It’s a proud moment for me to start my last run as head Alpha, and to watch my child end it as head Alpha.”

Stiles nodded, a small comfort replacing the fear in his gut. He watched Talia walk away from him, waiting for Derek to arrive. He felt the heat rush to his face when he saw Derek approaching the small clearing, realizing that they were both going to be seeing each other naked for the first time. Nudity never bothered him before, but he had never been shifting in front of his future mate either.

Derek had shed his shirt somewhere in the palace before he made his way outside. His feet were pleasantly cold against the ground, smiling to himself as he scrunched his toes against the grass. The moonlight caused his wolf to itch at his human skin, making it almost uncomfortable. He was anxious, the need to run screaming at him. He needed a stress relief. He needed his pack.

Derek looked up and saw Stiles staring at him. He moved closer to him, listening to the quickened beat of his heart. He took his place beside Stiles, waiting for the others. He could feel Stiles’ eyes trained on him as he inhaled before intensely observing him.

“What?” Derek asked as he side-glanced at Stiles.

“You … you don’t smell like her anymore,” Stiles weakly admitted.

“I haven’t been in the palace, near any guards for the past few days. Yesterday I told her to maintain a safe distance from me,” Derek replied. “That, and bathing profusely helps to get rid of scent markers.”

Stiles released a light chuckle, smiling to himself. “Thank you,” he replied, looking up at Derek. He noticed the way Derek tried to avoid eye contact with him, offering a small nod of acceptance. He rolled his eyes, moving in front of Derek as he reached a hand out to cup his jaw in his hands. He used his hand to steady himself against Derek, placing a gentle kiss in the corner of his mouth.

There was a small electric shock that ran from Stiles’ lips all the way to his toes upon contact. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the looming full moon, or the fact that they were starting to understand each other; to accept each other, but his fox wanted to keep Derek to himself. He wanted Kate to know he wasn’t willing to share.

“You love birds ready?” Peter’s voice called, swiftly shifting into his wolf form.

Derek rolled his eyes, slightly laughing when Stiles blushed before throwing a small glare towards Peter’s wolf. He stepped back from Stiles, easily unlacing his trousers.

Stiles turned his head to give Derek privacy.

“I’m not shy,” Derek stated, his voice obviously teasing.

“It’s rude to—” Stiles turned to look at Derek, thinking he still had his trousers on. He made a vocal noise of surprise before turning his head away when he realized Derek was naked. “It’s rude to trick someone into looking at you naked,” he concluded.

“You looked down freely,” Derek replied with a faint laugh.

“Well, I, it was difficult not to,” Stiles stammered as he flushed more. He hesitated to turn around when he didn’t hear a response. He peered behind him, catching sight of a sitting black wolf, calmly looking up at Stiles as it waited for him. “Funny, Derek,” he mumbled. He shimmied his shoulders out of his robe, very aware of Derek’s eyes on him. “I don’t care if you’re in wolf form or not, you’ll still be seeing me naked.”

Derek rolled his eyes before turning away from Stiles. He waited, surprised when he felt a smaller, soft body lean into him. He looked down to spot a small body with orange fur curling up against him. He felt something constrict and expand in his chest when a pair of big brown eyes shadowed in a flash of an orange glow looked up at him.

Stiles took in Derek’s demeanor, judging him as approving his touches. He moved closer to Derek, gently rubbing the side of his coat against his leg. His fox itched to be closer to him, moving and brushing its way under Derek’s head. Derek’s wolf was a significantly larger build than Stiles’ fox, but it only added to his fox’s need to be close. To be protected. He released a joyful yip when he felt Derek’s chest vibrate from the small purr he released. He rubbed his muzzle up along Derek’s neck, gently nuzzling him as best he could.

Stiles sank down into a sitting position by Derek’s front paws, reaching up to gently nip at Derek’s ear in a playful manner as they waited for Talia to initiate the run. He was overjoyed that Derek was indulging his playfulness, playfully nipping back at Stiles’ nose.

Stiles was surprised when two wolf cubs came barreling over to him, tumbling down at his paws. He stood, not understanding what was happening as he tried to back up into Derek more, paws avoiding the energetic fluff balls rolling on the ground.

Derek released an amused huff when Stiles tried to hide underneath him. He gently pushed the pups with his nose, urging them to stand up. At Derek’s beckoning, the pups immediately tried to sit still, both of them looking from Derek to Stiles.

Stiles looked at Derek, titling his head when Derek nodded towards the pups. He carefully eyed the two of them before taking a hesitant step closer. He noticed the way their tails began to wag, looking at one another with excitement.

Stiles carefully took in their scent, recalling the familiarity. _Mal … Alex._ He was surprised Mal and Alex could easily shift into full wolf forms and were allowed to partake in the run. Perhaps it was their first run, a type of celebration that they were experiencing it with a fox. He playfully licked both of their faces, causing them to begin rolling on the ground once more, pawing up at Stiles. He caught a glimpse of Derek watching them, a small smile falling over his lips, just enough to reveal his canines.

It didn’t take long for Talia to begin the run, releasing a howl before leading the way through the woods. Stiles kept pace with Derek, uncertain if he was holding back for him or not. He caught a few of the playful side-glances Derek would throw him before he decided to play back. He easily sped ahead of him, weaving from side to side to block Derek from passing him. He slowed when he noticed Derek looking away from him, scanning the tree lines. He quietly moved to Derek’s side when everyone all but crept to a halt, the older Hales all smelling the air.

 _Deer_ , Stiles thought as he moved from Derek’s side to join the pups. He was glad there were wolves smaller than him, preventing him from feeling useless. He waited with pups when Derek suddenly took off, his speed matching Talia’s as they bolted towards the trees, branching off from one another. Cora followed her mother and Peter followed after Derek.

Stiles happily played with the pups, prancing and pouncing in order to amuse them. He allowed the pups to tackle him, theatrically falling to the ground to let them roll around with him.

The pups released happy barks when they saw Derek and Talia pulling a fairly large buck through the trees and over to them. Stiles rolled to his feet as he watched the pups run up to the buck. He caught sight of Peter and Cora playfully nipping at one another as they descended from the tree line.

Stiles was intrigued by this side of the Hales. They had welcomed him into their home, treated him as pack. He was on a night run with the family who was supposed to be his enemy. And he only felt a deep fondness for them. He felt like family; pack.

Derek placed the deer in the center of the clearing, leaving room for them all. He smiled when he noticed the pups respectfully sitting as they waited their turn.

The hierarchy had dictated that Talia claim her portion first, followed by Laura and Derek, then Peter, with Cora last. This run, however, was different. With Laura gone and his mother retiring as head Alpha, Derek was now first. And since it was the first run for the pups, Talia would help them secure a part of her portion.

Derek moved, easily ripping off a significant section of the deer. He placed his claimed part down on the ground, settling himself next to it. He turned his head to look at Stiles when he noticed he wasn’t beside him.

Stiles wasn’t near Derek or the deer. He was patiently sitting behind the pups, watching the others. He had taken his place as Omega—waiting at the end of the line—for the Betas to have their share. His eyes slightly widened, thinking he did something wrong when all the Hales turned to look at him..

 _‘As the mate of an Alpha, the Omega moves up the hierarchy, similar to how a Beta does. An Alpha normally provides for their mate, offering the mate a share of their own part of the kill,’_ Stiles recalled Talia explaining to him earlier that evening.

Everything Stiles had been taught about being an Omega was completely different now that he was to be Derek’s mate. He slowly took a few steps closer to Derek. He watched the other Hales, not wanting to accidentally trip over any customs.

Stiles watched Derek, taking the last few steps until he was standing next to him. He settled down, crawling the last few inches until he was pressed against Derek’s side. The others turned their attention back towards the deer as they claimed their shares. Stiles turned to look up at Derek, uncertain what to do.

Derek leaned forward, dragging his part of the deer until it rested in front of Stiles. He turned his head to look back at his family, watching his mother help the pups, Cora and Peter playfully tug-of-warring on one of the deer’s hind legs.

Stiles gleefully accepted Derek’s offer. Deer was a rare kill for foxes, prompting him to savor it. _I suppose I can get used to this though. Derek providing for me._ It was only after his teeth hit bone that Stiles realized he was eating and Derek wasn’t. He peered down at the portion of the deer Derek had laid claim to, noticing it all under his paws instead of Derek’s. He turned to look at Derek, watching him as he still observed the others.

Stiles picked up the bone he was gnawing on, turning his head until he was able to drop it onto Derek’s paws. He smiled at Derek when he turned his head to look at him, arching his eyebrow in question. He gently nudged the bone towards Derek, wanting him to take it.

Derek carefully watched Stiles, looking down at the bone. It was Stiles’ own version of providing for Derek—for his Alpha. He leaned down, picking up the bone to begin lazily gnawing on it in an attempt to please Stiles. He felt a warmth spreading through him as Stiles curled into his body before resting his chin in the crook of his front leg.

For all things said and done, it was the best run either of them ever had.


	4. A Feast of Wolves

John arrived at the Hale palace the following morning, curious about his son’s absence from the grounds. He bid his guards to behave themselves, ordering them to follow both Scott and Chris’ compromise. A shaky agreement was reached which allowed a small handful of fox guards to accompany the king while he was in the palace.

After much disagreement, Scott had agreed to let Derek be responsible for Stiles’ safety after the marking ceremony, resigning himself to become the head of the king’s guard.

“I’m sorry, your majesty, but I was just informed that your son and the Hales only arrived back from their run moments prior to your arrival,” Scott hastily explained as he walked beside the king. “I’ve sent someone to retrieve them.”

“It’s alright, Scott,” John replied with a fond smile. “I’m just glad to hear that my son is safe.”

“I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to know you’ve arrived,” Scott stated. He hesitated before adding, “This all seems strange.”

“Strange?” John questioned as he examined the courtyard beside them.

“To be welcomed in Hale territory,” Scott replied.

“You were once welcomed here before you came to us,” John reminded him.

“I never thought I’d see my best friend freely roaming these halls,” Scott further explained. “Could this,” he paused as he looked around to see who could hear them. “Could this really work, your majesty?”

“I think Stiles and Derek both believe it will,” John replied. He paused his walking when he spotted a patch of foxglove in the courtyard’s garden. He slowly moved forward, reaching a hand out to touch the petals of one flower.

“Is something wrong?” Scott asked when he noticed how intensely John was looking at the flower.

“It’s foxglove,” John explained. “Beautiful flowers. Deadly to foxes,” he softly replied.

“Similar to wolfsbane for a wolf,” Talia answered as she made her presence known to them. “Pain disguised as harmless beauty.”

“My wife used to warn against the pain that could be hidden by beauty,” John replied.

“Your wife was a smart woman,” Talia replied. She eyed the patch of foxglove before looking at John. “I’ll have it removed from the palace if it makes you uncomfortable,” she sincerely offered.

John looked up at her, stealing a quick glance back at the flower before answering, “That’s not necessary.”

Talia nodded before gesturing towards the room at the end of the hall. “The throne room is this way.”

John offered Talia a smile, following after her as they moved towards the throne room. He paused when he heard his son’s laughter from down the hall. He turned to see Stiles walking beside Derek, both of them smiling.

Stiles was looking up at Derek as he walked beside him, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. He reached his hand out to gently grasp Derek’s shoulder, stabling himself against him. His steps faltered, coming to a stop when he spotted his father. He ducked his head before looking back at Derek.

Derek looked up to spot John, his smile falling into a courtly line. He nodded, to whatever Stiles said to him.

Stiles let his hand fall from Derek’s shoulder, his fingertips gently caressing his arm as he did. He turned to walk towards his father, smiling at him.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Talia offered to John and Stiles.

Stiles was nervous as he followed his father into the throne room. It was the first time Stiles was alone with his father in days. Even if Derek was to be his Alpha after the ceremony that night, his father was still his Alpha—an Alpha he had gone against. He didn’t even consider the consequences when he left.

“So, before you berate me,” Stiles started.

John put his hand up to silence Stiles. “I’m not here to yell at you Stiles. I’m here to accept that you are taking Derek Hale as your mate.”

Stiles nodded, biting his bottom lip as he waited for the inevitable ‘but’ to come from his father.

“And this whole thing must be working, considering you and I are standing in the Hale throne room. Without a guard in sight,” John continued, turning around to inspect the room. “But how far are you going to go to make this work, Stiles?” He turned back to look at his son.

Stiles looked at his father, confused with what he was talking about. He crossed his arms over his chest, the feeling of uncertainty making him sick.

“Are you falling for your own lie?” John asked.

“My own …” Stiles narrowed his eyes as he inspected his father. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Are you letting yourself be fooled into thinking you love Derek?” John asked.

Stiles groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got to be joking,” he huffed.

“Answer me, Stiles,” John demanded.

“Let me get this straight,” Stiles started. “You’re warning me not to fall for the man I’m supposed to take as my mate tonight. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying to be careful that you don’t get hurt,” John replied.

“Dad, what does it matter if I do end up falling in love with him?” Stiles partially protested.

“Does he love you?” John asked.

Stiles looked at the ground, avoiding his father gaze, because he knew his father had a point.

Derek had made no declaration of love to Stiles. He conversed with him, laughed with him, acted as if he enjoyed his company. But he never made a declaration of anything more than fondness, and a desire to not make Stiles uncomfortable.

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” John explained. “It’s one thing to put on an act, it’s another to fall for your own act.”

“I’m not acting,” Stiles admitted. “I know they’re supposed to be our enemy, but being here, being among them, out in the open … They’re no different from us. Some are friendly and welcoming where others are rude. We’re really similar, so I don’t understand why I can’t find happiness in being mated to Derek.”

“Because he didn’t choose you willingly,” John stated.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing his father yet again had another point. He turned his gaze to look outside, focusing on the still rising sun. He only nodded to his father before turning to exit the room. He pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind when he saw Derek and Talia waiting in the hallway. He offered a faint smile to Derek, attempting to ignore the way his heart tore at the thought of everything they’ve shared merely being Derek’s attempt to play at being mates.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“Try to stay calm, Stiles,” Lydia stated as she fixed his vest.

“I’m about to get bitten,” Stiles replied.

“You’re the one who decided to take a mate, so don’t take that tone with me,” Lydia replied, taking a step back to look at him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Stiles replied with fondness, fidgeting slightly. He wasn’t accustomed to so much of his skin being exposed. The ceremony vest was designed to be easily pushed aside, the collar completely collapsible from his neck.

“I’m here because it’s not every day your favorite fox is getting mated off,” Lydia replied.

Lydia was a rare and unique individual who had allegiances to neither fox nor wolf, but had friends in both. She was born a banshee—the screaming woman doomed to foretell future events whether she wished to or not. She had predicted the death of Stiles’ mother at the young age of eight. Her own mother was both feared and respected by wolves and foxes, neither of them ever asking her to side with one over the other. However, Lydia and her mother were not opposed to visiting both sides to offer their advice. It wasn’t until today that Stiles learned it was Lydia’s own suggestion to Talia that she extend an olive branch, which prompted Talia’s initial invitation of peace.

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asked when Stiles didn’t answer.

“Nothing,” Stiles lied as he looked down at his hands. “Everything will be fine, right?”

“The last time you asked me that, you had just stolen your father’s stallion and went on a joy ride,” Lydia stated, placing her hands on her hips. “So, what have you stolen now?”

Stiles released a small laugh, looking up at Lydia. “I haven’t stolen anything.”

“But you’re still scared,” Lydia softly said. “You’re afraid.”

Stiles looked away from Lydia, taking the few steps towards the window. He leaned against the cold stone as he observed the faintly visible moon beyond the sunset. “This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. But I keep second-guessing myself. What if I can’t pull this off? What if Derek grows tired of me? What if … what if this doesn’t change anything?”

“That’s a lot of ‘what if’s, Stiles,” Lydia replied.

“I’m going to have to face the council after this,” Stiles answered. “I’m going to have to go in front of the Alpha elders of my clan and convince them to accept Derek as my mate.”

“You’re the prince and rightful heir. They’re not going to go against you. Especially if they believe you love him,” Lydia moved to stand on the other side of the window as she spoke.

“You know I don’t love him?” Stiles asked.

“I foretell the future for a living, Stiles. It doesn’t take a genius to realize how often you hesitate in touching him before connecting the dots,” Lydia fixed the lace of her sleeve as she spoke.

“I try not to,” Stiles replied.

“Accept the fact that he is going to be your mate in a few hours, and then perhaps you won’t hesitate as much,” Lydia offered.

“Lydia,” a female voice interrupted them.

Both Lydia and Stiles turned to see Lydia’s personal guard standing in the doorway. Lydia nodded for the guard to continue.

“My father said that everything is secure, and that it is time,” the guard explained.

“We’ll be right out,” Lydia replied, giving her a smile. “Thank you, Allison.”

Stiles waited for Allison to leave before he asked, “Who is her father?”

“Chris Argent,” Lydia replied. “He’s the head of Derek’s guard. I believe her aunt is a guard as well.”

“Kate,” Stiles solemnly replied.

“Well that didn’t sound good,” Lydia stated as she turned back to look at Stiles.

“She, uh, doesn’t like me very much,” Stiles answered as he started moving towards the door.

“And why is that, your foxish charm too much for her to handle?” Lydia joking questioned as she followed him.

“No, I think she was meant to be Derek’s mate before all this,” Stiles sighed.

“ _Oh_ , that’s not good,” Lydia genuinely replied.

“Yeah,” Stiles stated. “You’re telling me.”

“Allison’s not like her family,” Lydia explained. “That’s why she asked to be sent to me as a guard. She wanted a way to get away from this war and the senseless killing.”

“A lot of us want a way to get away from it,” Stiles replied.

“Stiles,” Lydia stopped walking, grabbing ahold of Stiles’ hand to stop him from exiting outside. “I’ve witnessed a lot of marking ceremonies. And wolf bites are different from fox bites,” she explained. “It’s going to hurt—a lot— when Derek bites you.”

Stiles hesitated before nodding. He had assumed the bite was going to hurt, but he never thought about the difference between foxes and wolves.

“I’m telling you this … Just try to not react instinctively,” Lydia offered. “Don’t panic and think that Derek’s trying to kill you. It will end horribly for all involved.”

“Don’t try and attack my future mate, got it,” Stiles partially groaned.

Lydia placed a delicate hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, it’ll be okay,” Stiles sighed, releasing a deep breath.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles felt like his heart was going to break out of his chest. It was fluttering like a butterfly the entire time Talia spoke. They were all standing out on the scaffolding once more, with just as many gathered, if not more, to bear witness to their Alpha claiming his Omega.

Stiles clutched Derek’s hand tightly, his nerves causing him to feel as if he was about to lose his balance and fall off the scaffolding. He felt overwhelmed when he turned to face Derek. His fingers were trembling as he tried to loosen his vest enough to allow the material to move away from his skin to expose his shoulder. He was grateful when Derek’s hands covered his fingers, helping him with the vest.

Stiles looked up at Derek, offering a weak smile to him as he tried to ignore his nerves. A small shiver ran through him when his shoulder was finally exposed.

“Stiles—”

“I’m okay,” Stiles instantly stated. “I’m ready.”

Derek looked hesitant, pondering Stiles’ words until he nodded. He placed a gentle hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, his over resting on his hip as he moved them tightly together.

Stiles placed his own hands on Derek, one on his shoulder and the other on his lower back. He buried his fingers in the material of Derek’s shirt, anticipating the pain the bite was going to cause. He nodded to Derek, letting him know that he was ready.

Stiles gasped when the tips of Derek’s teeth grazed his skin. He let out a faint whimper, his fingers tightening like pistons when Derek’s fangs pierced his skin. He was thankful Derek was tightly holding his body against him, supporting him as all strength started to leave him.

Derek’s fangs felt red hot in Stiles’ neck, making him want to scratch at them until they left him. He pressed his body into Derek, trying to somehow ease the pain by getting him to magically give up. He sighed Derek’s name when he briefly tightened his hold on Stiles, allowing his teeth to pierce the skin for an adequate amount of time. He buried his fingers in Derek's hair, tightening his hold on him. He let out a sigh of relief when Derek’s fangs left him.

Derek continued to hold Stiles as he groggily stabled himself, cradling his weakened body against his chest. He ignored the celebratory howls coming from the crowd as he inspected Stiles’ neck. The mark he left on Stiles’ skin appeared in perfect contrast to the rest of his beautifully pale skin, but Derek knew he was biased anyways. To see his mark on Stiles meant a great deal; it meant that Stiles trusted him enough to allow himself to be marked—even if it was a political arrangement.

Stiles looked up at Derek, giving him a weak smile. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against Derek’s. He told himself it was the euphoric aftermath of being claimed that let them share the unnecessary kiss.

The celebration afterwards was what really surprised Stiles. The wolves all paid their respect to Derek by paying Stiles a similar respect. He had not expected such a welcoming. He noticed a similar fashion happening to his father as Talia was paid similar respects. For purposes of guaranteeing safety, Talia had offered to stay by John’s side the entire night. Stiles was thankful, knowing that her people loved Talia enough to respect her choices in accepting a fox as her guest—even the fox king.

Stiles sat by Derek’s side for the entire night, watching the festivities. He was intrigued mostly by the dancing, watching the dancers and their carefully performed steps. He clapped in beat with the drums, smiling as the dancers rhythmically spun around the dance dial.

Derek couldn’t help but look from the dancers to watch Stiles. He was captivated by the way Stiles closely watched the performance, smiling and applauding at moves wolves would deem as simplistic. He smiled at Stiles when he looked over at him.

“Time to dance, little prince,” Cora’s voice interrupted their silent moment as she came off of the dance dial, grasping Stiles’ hands.

“Cora, what are you doing?” Stiles’ voice wavered with fear that she was going to make him the center of attention.

“This is your celebration,” Cora explained. “It’s custom for you to dance.”

“What?” Stiles questioned as he looked from Cora to Derek. “It is?” He knew his voice sounded hurt. He was confused why Derek never mentioned it to him.

“It’s an old tradition,” Derek explained. “You don’t have to.” He shot a glare at Cora.

“I don’t know the steps,” Stiles explained to Cora.

“I’ll show you some easy ones,” Cora offered.

The rest of the night consisted of Stiles attempting to perform even the most simple of dance moves, unfortunately to no avail. He was nervous of being ridiculed, even insulting Derek for being completely inept at such a basic thing. However, Derek only ever smiled—sometimes laughed—whenever Stiles looked over at him.

Stiles had never had as much fun as he did during the celebration. He was reluctant to see it end. He accepted Derek’s offer of staying later, after the others left. The courtyard was empty except for them—and the standard guard patrolling the upper catwalks.

Derek indulged Stiles’ curiosity by playing a game of questions. A simple game Stiles deemed appropriate.

“One person asks a question and the other gives an answer. Then the person who asked the question says whether or not they believe it’s true or false. If it’s false, the answerer has to drink. If the guesser gets it wrong, they have to drink,” Stiles explained.

“I think you just want an excuse to drink more,” Derek replied with a small smile.

“That’s besides the point,” Stiles replied. “I’ll go first. How old are you?”

Derek laughed in response. “That’s hardly something to lie about.”

“How old?” Stiles asked again, laughing slightly.

“It’s rather sad you didn’t know I’m twenty-six _before_ you mated me,” Derek stated.

Stiles eyed Derek carefully, inspecting him for a lie. “I’m going to say truth,” he affirmed.

“And no one drinks,” Derek replied.

“So that makes you only six years older than me,” Stiles stated.

“And now I feel old,” Derek slightly jested.

Stiles rolled his eyes and gently kicked Derek’s foot. “You know you’re attractive despite age. Now ask your question, old man.” He laughed when Derek gently pushed him to the side.

“Have you ever not wanted to be a prince?” Derek asked.

“What type of question is that?” Stiles partially laughed as he looked down at his goblet.

“Something I’ve wondered,” Derek slightly shrugged.

“I never really thought about it,” Stiles admitted. “I used to think the reason no one was allowed around me was because I was an Omega. But then everyone kept calling me Prince Stiles,” he partially sighed. “So I guess I didn’t always want to be.”

Derek partially nodded.

“Have you?” Stiles asked.

“I have,” Derek replied. “Sometimes I wanted to run away, just to get away from the weight of responsibility from the war.” He carefully spun one of the utensils on the table as he thought more about it. “I almost did once. I ran from the palace, and I stayed out in the woods for almost a week before I came back. Needless to say, my family wasn’t happy with me.”

“What made you run away?” Stiles quietly asked.

“Someone very close to me died,” Derek explained, shifting in his seat.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles’ voice fell into a somber tone, the questions turning the light mood into a darker one.

“Wasn’t your fault,” Derek replied, the statement sounding as if it wasn’t the first time Derek uttered it.

“Do you mind if I ask about them? You can say no, I won’t be offended. It’s in your right,” Stiles partially rambled. He wanted to know more about Derek, but he wasn’t sure if the conversation was too much, too soon. _Too much, too soon even though we are mated for life now_.

“Her name was Paige,” Derek began, not looking at Stiles as he spoke. “We were thirteen when we met. I had just turned sixteen when she died.” He looked out towards the dancing dial, his eyes focused on a different time, reliving a faint memory. “She’s the reason I wanted to end this war. So others like her wouldn’t die.”

Stiles nodded, taking a long drink of his wine. He wasn’t sure if he felt better knowing about Paige. Perhaps it was easier to compete against a shade than it was against a fully formed image, especially when that image appeared to be burned into Derek’s being.

“Was she …” Stiles took in a shaky breath before finishing his question. “Was she your intended mate?”

Derek turned his head to look at Stiles. He carefully watched him, listening to the rapid beating of his heart with each passing second. He pondered what he should tell Stiles, if the truth was better than the lie.

“Does it matter?” Derek responded in question.

Stiles let out a weak, hollow laugh. “That’s a yes,” he turned his head to look at Derek, forcing a small smile. “You don’t have to lie to me about that. I’m not in denial that I was your first choice.” _Your choice at all_.

“My parents didn’t choose Paige as my mate,” Derek replied.

Stiles felt his bottom lip tremble when he realized what Derek meant. He ducked his head, nodding as he tried to hide himself. “I’m really sorry, then. If it wasn’t for this stupid war, you’d be happily mated by now.”

“Stiles,” Derek gently spoke his name.

“I’m fine, Derek,” Stiles lied. “I’m just a little drunk, I think,” he released another laugh, insincere compared to the ones they were sharing earlier.

“Stiles, you’re crying,” Derek softly explained.

Stiles reached a hand up, ghostly trembling as his fingertips touched his cheek. And sure enough, he felt the tears he didn’t know he was shedding staining his face. He quickly wiped his hands over his eyes, an attempt to dry the tears away.

“I’m a terrible drunk,” Stiles offered another laugh to try and hide.

“It’s late,” Derek offered. “Perhaps we should retire for the evening.”

“Perhaps we should,” Stiles echoed, setting his cup down.

They walked in relative silence, both uncertain how to respond to their earlier conversation. Stiles hesitated when he reached his bedroom door. His fingertips lightly danced across the doorknob, waiting for the courage to say something. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Did he invite Derek to stay? Did he apologize for thinking he was more than an arrangement?

“Derek, I ...” Stiles hesitated, turning his body to look at him. “I’m sorry about earlier, I don’t know what happened. I think it was the wine, plus all the dancing. I shouldn’t be allowed so much adrenaline,” he joked.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Derek stated. “I’m sorry if anything said upset you. That was not my intention. I merely wanted to tell you the truth when you asked.”

Stiles nodded, turning his head away from Derek. “I appreciate that.”

Derek watched Stiles carefully before taking a step back from him. “I believe this is where I take my leave of you, then,” he explained. He started to turn to leave when he felt a hand clamp down on his wrist.

“Wait,” Stiles softly spoke. “I, um, you don’t have to go. That is, I’m not opposed to sharing the comfort of my bed. If you aren’t.” He tried to keep an easy eye contact with Derek, uncertain how he even managed to form sentences, let alone have them make sense, with his heart beating so fast.

“Stiles,” Derek started, a struggle evident in his voice.

“Just to sleep. I’m not asking or offering anything other than that,” Stiles quickly added. His eyes widened when he realized that perhaps Derek didn’t want anymore to do with him tonight. “But if you would prefer to be alone tonight, I understand that, too.” He slowly released his hold on Derek, turning back to his door. He quickly slipped inside, turning to shut the door when he noticed that Derek was still standing there.

“I want you to be comfortable, Stiles,” Derek finally stated.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Stiles answered.

Derek nodded, slowly moving to take a step into Stiles’ room.

Stiles moved over to the distant side of his bed, fingers hurrying to unlace his vest. He shuddered as the fabric slipped off his shoulders, exposing his torso to the cold night air. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of Derek's back as he shed his own garment. He noticed the dark contrast of skin in three twisting arcs. _The Hale crest_. He ducked his head when Derek looked over to him, his attempt to remain unseen. He gently pulled back the covers before slipping into the bed. His eyes remained on Derek as he watched him relax into the bed beside him. He wasn't sure if it was disappointment or relief that he felt when Derek turned his back to him.

Stiles doused the light of his bedside candle, falling back into the bed. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the calm rhythm of Derek’s breathing. He turned his body towards Derek’s inspecting his back in the darkness. It wasn’t long before he drifted off into sleep, uncertain just how close his body was going to press into Derek’s once his dreams took over.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles awoke to the feeling of a warm body pressed up against him. He was certain he was dreaming, recalling all the times Malia would sneak into his room whenever she had a nightmare, cuddling him until Melissa came the next morning to hurry her out.

Only, this body was completely different from Malia’s. Where Malia was curvy, this body was solid. Where Malia was pleasantly warm, this body was like a furnace of heat. Where Malia smelled as a friend and close companion, this body smelled completely different to Stiles. _Mate_.

Stiles quickly opened his eyes, looking down at the arm slung over his waist, open palm resting on his bare stomach. He turned to notice that his head was only half on the pillow, the other resting on another arm. A familiar arm, one that belonged to a particular Hale.

Stiles slowly rolled his body towards Derek’s, an attempt to not wake him. He shifted his hips to allow him to rest on his back. He smiled to himself as he inspected Derek’s features.

Derek’s normal scowl was gone, his muscles completely relaxed as he continued sleeping. Everything Stiles knew about Alpha Derek Hale seemed to be inadequate compared to this portrait of complete innocence.

Stiles stifled a laugh when Derek grumbled something under his breath, pulling Stiles into him. He let Derek bury his face in the crook of his neck, just over the mate mark Derek had left last night.

“Am I that comfy of a pillow?” Stiles whispered.

Derek’s senses appeared to be unaffected by his sleeping state, his eyes immediately opening upon hearing Stiles’ voice. He looked at Stiles before releasing his hold on him, moving away from him. He looked slightly alarmed as he inspected the room, confused about where he was.

“Derek,” Stiles called him name.

“Stiles, I didn’t—are you alright?” Derek asked, restraining himself from moving forward.

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied, slightly arching his eyebrow. “I invited you to stay, remember?” He slowly leaned forward, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“I thought—” Derek closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I slept really well,” Stiles offered. “Actually, that’s the best I’ve slept that I can remember.” He smiled when Derek looked up at him. “You’re really warm, you know that?”

Derek laughed, nodding. “Wolves run at high temperatures. Alphas run even higher.”

“So, you’re like my own personal furnace now? I’ll never have to suffer another cold night?” Stiles partially joked, but was hoping that Derek would give away if he intended to start sharing a bed with him. As mates would.

“You might kick me out of bed for overheating you,” Derek replied.

Stiles smiled opening his mouth to speak when the door to his room suddenly opened.

“Alright, Stiles, time to—” Cora stopped mid sentence when she saw Derek. “Oh gods no!” She immediately turned around, clamping hands over her eyes. “Tell me I didn’t walk in on anything.”

Derek rolled his eyes, about to speak when Stiles stopped him.

“You’re interrupting your brother making passionate love to me, this better be important,” Stiles stated with a grin when Cora groaned.

Derek released a low chuckle.

“Alright, not funny,” Cora barked as she turned around to face them. “I need to borrow Stiles,” she announced, placing her hands on her hips.

Derek looked over at Stiles, arching his eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me, this is all her,” Stiles shrugged.

“Just be careful with him,” Derek said to Cora s he started to rise from the bed.

“I’ll try to go easy on him,” Cora quipped back.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Stiles replied.

“You’ll have fun,” Cora guaranteed as she moved to the dresser, pulling out an appropriate outfit.

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me,” Stiles whispered as Derek leaned in close to him.

“You’ll be fine,” Derek reassured him.

“You keep saying that lately,” Stiles replied, leaning into Derek’s touch as his fingertips ran over the bite marking the crook of Stiles’ neck.

“And I mean it,” Derek replied. He cupped Stiles’ chin in his hand, leaning forward to press a kiss against his lips.

Stiles decided that he could get used to kissing Derek. It was always pleasant, but somehow equally too short. He felt as if the moment he leaned forward, offering more, Derek would pull back.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Derek stated against his lips.

Stiles nodded in agreement, watching Derek collect his shirt from the previous evening. He smiled when Derek turned back to look at him before closing the doors. He flopped onto his back, turning to press his face into the pillow Derek had been using. He blushed at how childish he was being, savoring the smell of another.

“You know, you could just tell him you like him,” Cora stated, throwing Stiles’ clothes into his face as he turned around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles replied as he rolled his body out of bed, examining his clothes.

“Please just put us all out of our misery and tell each other,” Cora partially groaned.

“Tell each other?” Stiles inquired as he pulling his shirt on over his head.

“You and Derek are smitten,” Cora replied with a smile.

“We’re happy to have brought a peaceful end to the war,” Stiles explained, afraid to admit what he felt the other night; how awful it felt to be crushed by the idea that Derek could never feel for him what he felt for Paige.

“Right, well, I’m going to teach you something that will mean the world to Derek,” Cora stated, turning to give Stiles privacy.

“And that would be?” Stiles asked as he quickly shed his trousers, changing into the clean pair.

“How to perform the Dance of Souls for the festival,” Cora happily commented.

“Dance of Souls?” Stiles questioned as he tucked his shirt into his trousers.

“It’s a dance that mated couples perform. Derek always wanted to perform it,” Cora explained. “He’s breathtaking when dancing, Stiles. I can’t wait for you to see him.”

“I don’t think Derek would like that, Cora,” Stiles stated, occupying himself with the hem of his sleeve.

“Don’t be an idiot, he will,” Cora stated as she grabbed Stiles’ hand, pulling him after her.

~0~0~0~0~0~

According to Cora, Stiles was actually successful in performing the steps correctly. Stiles had complained that foxes weren’t meant to move the same way, blaming his inability to curl and roll his hips on his species.

“You’ll get a hang of it,” Cora stated as they parted down the hallways. “I have to check in with Isaac, but I’ll see you at dinner.”

Stiles waved to her, continuing down the hall. He knew he had a few hours to kill before dinner, fueling his curiosity to roam the palace halls. It was the first time he was by himself as he moved through the halls. He felt more at ease, a wave of confidence pulsing through him as he idly ran his fingertips over Derek’s slowly scarring bite mark on his neck. No one could try and hurt him, not without incurring Derek’s wrath now.

Stiles started to slow his steps, thinking about what would happen if someone intended him harm. Derek had guaranteed his safety, but he never really stated if Stiles’ safety was of actual importance to him. _It would be an insult to him, but would he care that I was hurt?_

Stiles shook his head, trying to forget about such thoughts as he continued. He felt a melancholy mood fall over him as he stumbled upon the garden. He moved over to a few flowers that he recognized, smiling as he examined them. He knelt by the flowers, easily browsing through them as he inspected the patches for the perfect one. He frowned at the foxglove, avoiding contact with it entirely.

Stiles heard a pair of hurried footsteps, causing him to stand up, moving from sight. He peered around the column that hid him from view, smiling when he noticed Derek. He began to move to make himself known when he saw a flash of blond hair. His heart sunk when he saw that the blond belonged to none other than Kate.

“I told you that we were done, Kate,” Derek harshly whispered.

“And I don’t believe you,” Kate challenged. “I saw you up on that scaffolding when you announced this _joke_.”

Stiles winced at her words.

“You’re not happy, Derek. Not like when you were with me,” Kate’s voice was softer as she spoke.

“That’s not your concern, Kate,” Derek replied.

Stiles felt his stomach clench and twisted, making him feel sick. Derek wasn’t denying Kate’s accusation, making Stiles’ mind jump to conclusions. _He’s not happy? Of course he’s not. Why would he be happy being tied to me? Why did he go through with this then?_ He began to panic the more he thought about it. He fell into the one trap he was afraid of, being paired with a mate that could not love him.

“Derek, you’re a proud, Alpha wolf,” Kate started. “And yet you’ve stuck yourself with an Omega. An Omega fox. The one that let Laura die.”

“Laura’s death wasn’t his fault,” Derek replied in a voice heavy.

“You once told me that you couldn’t be with anyone after what happened to Paige,” Kate started. “Then you told me you wanted me to be by your side.”

“Stiles—”

“Nobody cares about Stiles!” Kate snarled, venom dripping from every word.

“He is my _mate_ ,” Derek growled, his voice grumbling from an unknown fury. “And you will do well to remember that.”

“Derek—” Kate silenced herself, no doubt cowering into submission. “We both know you do not love him,” her voice was firm as she spoke. “You can lie to the clan, even to the fox and yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“Good day, Kate,” Derek cut her off. “I will not discuss this with you again. And you _will_ refrain from leaving scent markers on me.”

“To please the fox, or because you do not welcome them anymore?” Kate defiantly questioned.

“It displeases Stiles,” Derek replied. “And therefore it displeases me.”

Stiles pressed his body against the pillar, trying to calm his heartbeat, terrified that it was loud enough for them to hear. He wanted to cry, to curse himself for thinking he could have anything that resembled a happily ever after, let alone normal. He wiped his few tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. He waited a few moments, listening to the sound of retreating footsteps as he calmed himself.

“Did you enjoy that?” Kate’s voice startled him.

Stiles slowly emerged from behind the pillar, immediately catching her gaze with his own. _Does she think she can glare me into not existing?_ He felt as if he was shrinking with each second.

“Which part?” Stiles defiantly questioned back. He watched her as she began to take a few steps, circling around the garden between them. He took a step every time she did, maintaining a safe distance from her.

“The part where your Alpha doesn’t love you but feels obligated to tolerate you,” Kate replied with a smirk.

“It’s not my fault he rejected you,” Stiles quickly fired back.

“It’s all your fault, _little prince_ ,” Kate stated with disgust. “Derek was mine. But now you’re all he’ll let near him, because it’s what is _right_.”

Stiles kept her gaze, unwilling to blink and let her think she won. He took solace in the fact that he had the weight of Derek’s mark behind him. Kate could bitch and complain about Stiles as much as she wanted, but she couldn’t actually cause him harm, not without harming herself.

“What, you honestly think he loves you?” Kate scoffed at the idea of it. “Tell me, how could a wolf possibly love a fox?”

Stiles felt his hands clench into fists, his anger boiling over as he thought about Derek accepting Kate into his arms.

“What are you going to do, _little Omega prince_? Scratch me?” Kate mocked him. She released a laugh as she started to walk back down the hall, away from him.

Stiles didn’t remain in the hall. He quickly turned on his heel and hurried back to his room. He wanted to escape—to hide away from the fact that he now knew Kate was still actively pursuing Derek; that he knew Derek was keeping it from him.

“Stiles?” Talia’s voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to pause his steps.

“Your majesty,” Stiles replied, bowing his head slightly.

Talia ushered for him to walk with her. She waited until Stiles was standing beside her before she asked, “Is something troubling you?”

“Plagued by thoughts,” Stiles offered.

“Anything I could help to ease your mind?” Talia asked.

“I honestly am not sure,” Stiles admitted.

Talia reached a hand out to stop Stiles. She turned his face so he would look at her. “I would like to ask you something,” she began. “If you feel it is too personal for you to answer, it is fine if you decide not to. I only ask that you do not lie to me.”

Stiles hesitated before nodding.

“Could you love my son?”

Stiles frowned, feeling as if his life was not letting him have an easy day. The day had started with such promise before its slow decline. “I think I could,” he softly replied, casting his eyes downwards. “But what if Derek is the one who is miserable with me?”

Talia carefully watched Stiles, releasing a small sigh as she took his hand in hers, leading him back down the hall. “I have to show you something.”

Stiles remained silent, allowing Talia to lead him through the palace. He was already turned around, certain he would never be able to find his way back to the family quarters. He was surprised when they came to a large, decorative door guarded by two guards. They instantly bowed to one knee when they recognized Talia, baring their necks to her.

Talia released Stiles’ hand, moving to open the door. She gestured for him to enter in front of her. She patiently waited for Stiles to enter the room, following after him as she shut the door behind them.

“What is this place?” Stiles questioned.

“This is the Hale crypt,” Talia explained. She moved to grasp one of the torches, gesturing for Stiles to follow her. “If you wish to understand my son, there is something about his past you have to understand first. Derek isn’t the easiest person to talk to, either. That is the only reason I am revealing this to you. You are his mate and deserve to know the truth. A truth Derek himself likes to pretend that he forgets.”

Stiles silently followed behind Talia, gently walking in her footsteps. He tried to take comfort in the sound of the torch burning brightly in Talia’s hand. Tried to forget that they were walking among the dead; dead that had been killed well before their time. They passed through statue after statue, all of them carved to match the person whose coffin they accompanied.

_Men, women … children …_

Talia stopped in front of the second to last statue. It mirrored a beautiful yet simple young woman. Her nose was small, turned upwards with the rest of her face as she looked towards the heavens. Her cheeks were elegantly curved down into the point of her chin. There were even a few beauty marks decorating her skin.

Talia looked away from the statue towards the last one. It was of a man.

 _King Andrew_ , Stiles thought. _The last of the Hales to die. No … Laura._ He turned his head further around the corner to catch sight of a slab of marble that was only half carved.

“Who … who was she?” Stiles asked as he looked back at the young woman’s statue.

“Her name was Paige,” Talia started. “Derek met her when he was just becoming a teenager. She intrigued him because she didn’t care for his arrogance or attempts to show off. She was different,” she stated, turning to look at Stiles. “Like you.”

Stiles frowned, looking up at Paige’s statue.

“They were young—foolish even. They were each other's first love. Derek wanted to make her his mate when they both turned sixteen,” Talia explained. “She died a few days short of turning sixteen. He lost her on the cusp of having her for life.”

“How did she die?” Stiles weakly asked.

“Wolfsbane,” Talia replied. “A deadly dose that was meant for Derek. Somehow their goblets got confused. She died in Derek’s arms.”

Stiles shook his head. “That’s a horrible way to lose someone.”

“He killed her,” Talia softly stated.

Stiles looked at Talia, opening his mouth to argue.

“She was in such pain. She couldn’t even breathe without letting out a sharp whimper. Deaton informed us that it had reached her bloodstream—impossible to cure. She begged Derek to stop the pain. He … he held her in his arms, before swiftly crushing her chest, instantly stopping her heart.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Stiles questioned, unsure if he should know such an intimate detail of Derek’s life without his permission.

“I’m telling you this so you can understand Derek’s hesitation,” Talia explained. “Derek refused to take a mate after that. We were all convinced he had vanished for good when he disappeared, only to have him return a week later. He never said why he came back, but he was a different person after. He wasn’t a boy any longer.”

“You’re telling me this so I don’t give up hope?” Stiles asked.

“You remind him of her,” Talia replied. “I see it when he looks at you, when he's confident no one can see him. It’s the same look he used to have when he watched her.”

“I don’t …” Stiles released a built-up sigh. “I don’t want to be a replacement for her.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Talia stated. “All I’m saying is that she was his first love. Perhaps you can be his last.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as she turned to lead them back down the hall. “Perhaps you will see a different side to Derek once you reach your castle. He’ll be more open to conversation once you lure him out of his den.”

 _Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps._ Stiles frowned, looking back up at Paige's statue. He wanted to be closer with Derek, but he didn't want to live in a shadow. Perhaps they could find a peace between each other; enough to at least find friendship, if not love. He wasn't giving up on Derek yet, just like he wasn't giving up on the peace.


	5. A Fox Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments! I usually try to respond to all of them, but I've been working hard juggling grad work and writing this story, so the speedy updates are my thanks! But seriously, I love hearing from you guys and how much you adore this fic.
> 
> I also love the theories! I have a feeling you will all enjoy the ending and how it all comes together.
> 
> <3 Thank you!

Stiles stood in the center of the council, turning his body with ease as he inspected the Alpha elders. For once, all eyes were not fixed on him.

The elders had taken an interest to Derek, all of them keeping a good distance from him as they took their respected places. They were all focused on the way Derek was respectfully standing behind Stiles, waiting for him to address the council.

“My father has already informed you of my intentions weeks ago when I left the guards behind to seek out the Hales,” Stiles began, scanning the dozen sets of eyes focused on him. “I  _have_ taken Derek as my mate, and he has taken me as his. The Hales, along with their people—now my people—have accepted me as their own. I have come here today, not to argue with you or force you to agree with my decision, but to publically announce my actions. I cannot control how you will react, but I ask that you keep an open mind, and accept the peace and joy this union has brought. Not only to your own packs, but to both clans.” He bowed his head in respect to them before stepping back to look at Derek. He gave him a small smile, slipping his hand into Derek’s as a reassurance.

Derek looked at their touching hands, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked up at Stiles. It had been the first contact they had in the last few days, but Derek smiled through his confusion, giving Stiles a small nod.

Stiles had resigned himself into seclusion as he planned out how to handle the council, still plagued with thoughts of Kate and his new knowledge of Paige. He had tried to not actively ignore Derek, but he knew he was failing the way Derek pulled back from him, neither of them making a move to share the other’s bed since the night of the marking ceremony.

Several of the Alphas looked to each other, uncertain if they had the right to voice their concerns.

“So it is done?” One of the eldest of the Alphas questioned. “The wolf clan wishes to surrender?”

Stiles winced, tightening his fingers around Derek’s in an attempt to calm him. “They are not surrendering anything, and neither are we,” he replied. “The battles have stopped because Derek and I agreed that this war has gone on long enough. For the sake of everyone involved, Derek has guaranteed that if the fighting is to begin again, it will  _not_ be from the wolf clan.”

“And you trust him?” Another elder wearily asked. “A wolf you know nothing about.”

“Derek is my mate,” Stiles confidently replied. “I trust him with my life, and the lives of our people—fox and wolf.”

A hushed murmur spread throughout the council, their skepticism about the success of Stiles and Derek mating being proven pointless.

“And what of his temper?” Alpha Yukimura finally spoke.

Stiles turned to look at her, recalling the last time they interacted was when she growled him into submission.  _‘He would be better to learn his place now than later. Not every Alpha will be as forgiving.’_

Derek’s free hand clenched, knuckles turning white as he refrained from speaking out of turn. He had promised Stiles that he wouldn’t speak unless it was absolutely necessary, both of them knowing the elders were going to try and paint him in a negative light. And an outburst was only going to give them something to twist to their benefit.

“Derek would never hurt me,” Stiles replied.

“A childish assumption,” Alpha Yukimura replied.

“Noshiko!” One of the younger elder’s harshly spoke her name as a warning that she was out of line.

“Have you known a wolf to not lash out, especially in retaliation?” Alpha Yukimura questioned. “I have seen the ‘gentle nature’ of wolves, and it is far from innocent.”

“The same can be said of foxes,” Derek finally spoke.

Stiles turned to look at Derek, along with the rest of the council.

“You dare to insult—”

“The same way you insult me and my kind,” Derek quickly replied. “I have been told stories of the way two or three foxes will sneak and maneuver in order to take down a wolf with exact precision and ease. I have  _seen_  foxes feign injury to plead to a wolf’s foolishness, only to murder the wolf when they attempt to assist. I’ve seen foxes murder pregnant women just because they were carrying a wolf pup in their womb. Tell me, what harm did that child ever do?” He paused as the council was stunned into silence.

“I did not come here to lay blame for this war at your feet. And I especially did not come here to have you blindly blame me for everything one wolf has done to harm you,” Derek stated, his voice heavy but calm. He was masking his anger well.

“You cannot deny the nature of your species,” Alpha Yukimura replied.

Derek released a scoff, his hand pulling away from Stiles before he continued to speak. “Do I accuse you of trickery? Of lies and deceit?”

Stiles scanned the elders, noticing that most of them were casting their eyes elsewhere. To accuse a fox of such things was insulting. It was a stereotype painted onto foxes to be liars and cheats, simply based on the fact that they were faster, swifter than others.

“Accusing a wolf of losing control and lashing out at someone—at their  _mate_ , is quite possibly the biggest insult you could afford to give,” Derek finished.

Stiles turned his attention back to Derek. He reached a hand out, placing it on Derek’s shoulder in comfort.

Derek casted his eyes down, leaning back into Stiles’ touch. He mumbled a quiet apology to Stiles.

“Scott,” Stiles turned his attention towards him. “Please escort Derek back to our rooms.”

Derek turned to look at Stiles, confused by his words.

“I’ll handle this,” Stiles softly stated, an unspoken ‘trust me’ hanging between them.

Derek finally nodded, turning to leave with Scott.

Stiles waited for them to be gone before he turned to address the council once more. “I am your prince, and in a few days when my father steps down, I will be your king. And you will show me the same respect and loyalty you have shown him. And to insult my mate is to insult me.” He paused, carefully scanning the elders. “I will mark Derek as my mate in the following lunar cycle. I will continue to travel back and forth between here and the Hale palace, overseeing the changes that need to be done to ensure peace. As the Hales have allowed my father and I our own guards in their territory, I will allow them the same respect.”

The murmurs had grown to actual outbursts of protest.

“This is not negotiable!” Stiles firmly rose his voice above the rest until they were silent. “Some of you may see me as a lowly Omega. But I am the last of the Stilinski line, and I will keep my promise to rule our people as justly as my predecessors, with Derek Hale by my side.”

The council remained quiet, eyes cast downward as they lost themselves in thought.

“Prince Stiles,” one of the Alphas addressed him.

Stiles turned to look at her. She was one of the eldest, hair turned white from her years. He had met her when he was younger, recalling that he actually liked her compared to the others.  _She actually smiled and didn’t look down her nose at me_.

“If Derek Hale is your choice, I will not stand between that union. And if this union continues to fuel peace like the past few weeks, I say you and the young Hale have earned the respect from this council.”

Stiles smiled, bowing his head in respect to her. It wasn’t long until the entire council reached the agreement that they would support Stiles’ decision, recognizing Derek as his legitimate mate.

Stiles waited until he was out in the hall before he released his sigh of relief. He noticed that he was steadily shaking, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Stiles,” Scott’s voice interrupted his thoughts, making him look up to spot his best friend walking towards him.

“It Derek alright?” Stiles asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Scott partially sighed.

“What happened?” Stiles questioned.

“I think I insulted him,” Scott replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Scott,” Stiles groaned. “He was already upset because of the way the council was treating him. You should have waited for me before you said anything to him.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Scott stated. “I didn’t mean it to sound like an insult.”

“What did you say?” Stiles asked.

“I only mentioned that no one would take kindly to the idea of you being forced into submission. That you were supposed to be mated to Malia because she was a Beta, and her instincts wouldn’t push her to dominate you.”

“Oh, no,” Stiles closed his eyes, groaning in response. “Scott, you’re implying that he’d force—”

“That wasn’t what I meant, but I do realize now that that’s how it sounds,” Scott immediately replied.

“Prince Stiles?” a quiet female voice called from the doorway leading into the council.

“Yes?” Stiles turned to look at the owner of the voice.

It was a young, ebony-haired woman around their age. She offered both Stiles and Scott a small smile as she approached.

It took Stiles a moment before he recognized her.

“Kira,” Scott addressed her first, straightening his posture some.

Stiles gave him a look, telling him that he was being obvious.

“Hello, Scott,” Kira’s smile widened as she looked at him.

Stiles rolled his eyes, feeling the same way Cora must have when she told him how obvious he was about Derek.  _I really hope I’m not this obvious_.

“I wanted to apologize for my mother’s behavior in there,” Kira explained to Stiles. “She has been rather … difficult to handle, lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Stiles replied. “I accept your apology, although you shouldn’t have to make it.”

“It’s my fault she is upset,” Kira replied. “Ever since I presented as an Omega, she has been conflicted in how to deal with it.”

“You’re an Omega?” Stiles asked in shock. “But I thought I was the only one still alive.”

“We all did,” Kira replied. “I was thought to be a Beta, until my … um,” she blushed, stealing a glance at Scott before looking at Stiles.

“Oh!” Stiles replied. “Right, heat.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be present for this,” Scott somewhat stammered as a blush crept onto his cheeks.

Kira began to sport a similar blush of her own, causing Stiles to suppress a small chuckle.

“It’s alright, we’re not going to go into it in detail,” Stiles replied. He released a small ‘Ow!’ when Scott kicked his shin.

“It was somewhat of a surprise for my mother. She doesn’t like the idea of me mating an Alpha anymore,” Kira explained. “The reason she spoke out about Derek and you was from a similar fear. A fear that an Alpha will take advantage of our biology.”

“That seems to be a similar fear that everyone is having lately,” Stiles stated, glancing at Scott.

“I meant no disrespect to Derek,” Scott stated.

“I know you didn’t,” Stiles replied. “Excuse me, Kira, but I have to check in with Derek,” he stated as he turned to slightly bow.

“Of course,” Kira replied, bowing her head in return. “I will be around to converse with you later.”

“How long are you staying?” Stiles asked, uncertain when they council members were leaving the castle.

“Um, indefinitely,” Kira replied. “Your father has accepted me into the guard.”

Scott’s eyes slightly widened before a smile fell over his lips. Stiles suppressed a small laugh.

“Maybe Scott could tutor you,” Stiles offered.

Kira smiled, looking at Scott as she spoke. “It you’re not too busy, that would be nice.”

“Ah, no. I mean—I’m not busy. But a yes to tutoring you,” Scott stammered.

Stiles smiled at them as he departed, happy to hear that they were finally holding a whole conversation. He spent too long watching Scott ramble on about how he caught a glimpse of Kira here or there, never admitting to himself that he instantly fell for her the minute he saw her when they were kids.

Stiles hesitated when he reached Derek’s door, uncertain if he should bother him. He knew it was a bad idea to leave him until tomorrow, unsure what type of altercation he and Scott shared. Alphas could be unreasonable, especially with one another, both of them refusing to back down. He recalled how Derek and Scott had a stand off in the Druid’s lands, and the only thing stopping them from attacking each other was Stiles himself.

Stiles softly knocked, waiting for Derek’s faint “Enter,” before he opened the door. He slipped inside, carefully observing the room. It was connected to Stiles’ own bedroom, intended for the very purpose of housing his mate one day. It wasn’t customary among most mated foxes to continually share a bed with each other past the point of procreating. It wasn’t common because most matches were made for political reason opposed to love.  _Duty before love_.

“Derek?” Stiles called his name, walking further into the room.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice called his name from the balcony.

Stiles moved across the room, catching sight of Derek leaning over the railing on his balcony. He stopped a few steps short of Derek, slightly scuffing his toe against the ground. He waited for Derek to acknowledge his presence, to permit him to speak about what happened.

“How did it go?” Derek asked, remaining unmoving.

“I addressed their unnecessary treatment of you,” Stiles replied. “And they have submitted to accepting our union.”

“And I am certain they will be as respective during the ceremony,” Derek stated in a deadpan tone.

“Would you like to head back early?” Stiles questioned.

“You want to mark me and then send me away?” Derek bitterly questioned.

“It’s not necessarily customary for the marking to take place as a ceremony. It could be just between us even. It’s more of a mark of stature among my people than anything else. They only care that it exists, not the process in which it happened,” Stiles explained.

“And I meant to leave together,” Stiles softly replied. “You accompanied me here sooner than expected, and I am grateful for that,” he continued, keeping a calm demeanor as Derek turned to look at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I want you to be comfortable. And if you are uncomfortable here, because of how they treated you, I understand. And I understand the desire to head back to your home.”

“We do not have a single home. Not anymore, Stiles,” Derek replied, leaning backwards against the railing as he observed him.

“It’s still home in your heart. There are things there … people there that are important to you. Just as there are here for me,” Stiles commented, hoping Derek wouldn’t bother commenting on his hesitation.

As if Stiles was lucky enough.

“You’ve been different the past few days,” Derek replied. “You seem preoccupied, as if … as if you’re keeping something from me.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Stiles weakly questioned as he met Derek’s gaze.

“Meaning?” Derek asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Stiles sighed, annoyed that he let his mouth get away from him. “I know about Kate,” he finally admitted.

“What about her?” Derek’s face remained unreadable, his body more rigid and unwelcoming than it was moments ago.

“I’m not stupid,” Stiles stated, keeping the shake in his voice at bay. “I know she seeks after you. That if it wasn’t for your honor you would gladly accept.”

“You are stupid,” Derek sharply replied. “I can only imagine what gossip you’ve heard that has you suddenly assuming you know me and my desires.”

Stiles refrained from wincing at the bitterness in Derek's voice. “I heard the two of you,” he firmly stated. “And I do not listen to gossip, Derek. I believe what I see and hear myself. I know that Kate still wants you, and as an Alpha there is  _nothing_  stopping you from taking it besides the pity you have for me in staying faithful to our arrangement.”

Derek scoffed in bitter amusement as his arms dropped to his sides. “You speak about moving passed what our species' biology tell us, but you seem rather quick to judge Alphas on what we are equally stereotyped as.”

“You’re right, I do barely know you. All I know is what I have been taught—”

“Something that has added to this war,” Derek interrupted him. “Because scholars like to have their  _knowledge_  biased to their past experiences.” He moved closer to Stiles with each word. “So tell me Stiles, from what I know about Omegas, you should be on your knees right now, begging me to breed you; to hold you down as I mount you like a cheap whore.”

The sound of the slap loudly bounced off of the bedroom walls.

Stiles felt the tears burning at his eyes as they threatened to spill, his arm having instinctively moved without his knowledge. His palm hurt where the skin had smacked across Derek’s cheek. He slowly closed his fingers around his palm, hoping the tingling would quickly disappear. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked away from Derek’s face. He wanted to apologize, but felt as if he couldn’t form the correct words. His entire life was spent being told he was a worthless Omega, especially now that he was mated to a male Alpha, lacking the proper reproductive organs to bear children once Derek satisfyingly bred him to his heart's content. He could brush off the harsh words and pitied looks from others, but to hear them from his mate—from Derek—was more than he could manage. The smack had been twenty years in the making and he didn't mean for it to be Derek to receive it, because he was right. Stiles had been stereotyping him as a dominating Alpha, just as he had been stereotyped as a submissive Omega in the past.

Derek kept his face turned to the side, avoiding looking at Stiles. His cheek tingled under the sudden impact of Stiles’ palm smacking him hard across the face. He had been waiting for Stiles to hit him, but he wasn’t sure if he should have goaded him into it now. He could hear Stiles’ heart beat faster as he sucked in short, whimpering breaths. He could smell the fear and uncertainty emitting from Stiles, spiking with every growing second.  _Fear of me_ _,_ Derek thought.

“I—” Stiles cut himself off, shaking his head. He took a steady breath to continue. “I only came here to check on you,” he weakly stated. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. Or to be humiliated. I’ve suffered that in every other aspect of my life, and I wish not to hear it from you too. I shouldn’t have hit … I’m sorry,” he apologized before turning on his heel, walking over to the door connecting their rooms together.

“I don’t want Kate,” Derek stated when Stiles reached the door. “I never … She wanted me and she was a safe option. That was it.”

Stiles paused, tightening his hand on the doorknob to prevent it from shaking. “I know what …  _who_  you want,” he turned his head to look at Derek. He knew that the streaks of tears staining his cheeks wouldn’t make it easier, but he didn’t feel like hiding anymore. “And I’m sorry you lost her. I'm sorry you still feel guilty for ending her pain. And I'm sorry that I can't be what she was,” his voice cracked as he uttered the last part. He noticed the way Derek’s features contorted into shock and disappointment. He didn’t wait for him to answer before he quickly opened the door and slipped into his room. He didn’t bother trying to smother his sobs as he fell asleep, knowing Derek could hear him either way, and it felt better to let the tears go freely.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles had wished he and Derek were on better terms when the marking ceremony took place. He wished the Hales were present as well, disappointed that they could not risk traveling into fox territory. He recanted and agreed with his father that it was too risky, even if his father was able to take the risk of being in Hale territory. Something told Stiles that it would have been easier for Derek if his family was there. It would be easier to submit to a political match knowing his family supported him; that he still had something that was his.

Stiles was nervous being met with the exposed flesh of Derek’s neck, uncertain how to proceed. Derek had taken control over Stiles’ own marking, making it easier for Stiles to do. Stiles however had no experience using his fangs for anything besides chasing after and capturing rabbits and other small rodents. And Derek was definitely not a small rodent.

Stiles was thankful Derek unlaced and moved his shirt to the side himself, knowing his wouldn’t be able to stop shaking. He wished Derek would look at him, or at least give him a sign that he was all right to proceed. The whole ceremony was cold and distant—calculated—unlike every other part of their interactions. He wished it was different, knowing how important it was to Derek.

Stiles placed a hand over Derek’s heart, his normally cold skin simmered against the warmth of Derek’s.

Derek looked down at Stiles' hand before— _finally!_ —looking at his face. He immediately noticed the uncertainty in Stiles’ eyes, prompting him to place his hand over Stiles'.

It was an intimate gesture, one they haven’t shared since before they arrived in the fox territory. Stiles missed them—they were a small comfort he enjoyed having to know that it wasn’t impossible for them to find more than fondness in the other. He wondered if Derek felt the same. He felt his chest constrict and expand when he noticed Derek slowly baring his throat to him.

Stiles heard the faint murmur of surprise coming from different council members, shocked that an Alpha more than willingly bared their throat to an Omega—especially an Alpha wolf. The ceremony didn’t require Stiles to mark Derek on his neck as it had for Derek to mark him. Stiles was, regardless of how Derek reassured him he wasn’t, Derek’s property. Beta or Omega, both bowed down to Alphas, especially if they were a mated pair. It was not necessary for an Omega to mark an Alpha in such a public manner. It was rare, usually only common in matches made out of love; a desire to demonstrate that they belonged to each other.

Stiles caught his father’s eye, who only nodded in reassurance for Stiles to accept the offer. He hesitated, running his hand up Derek’s chest, along the curve of his neck before settling on his cheek.

Derek closed his eyes, leaning into Stiles’ touch to expose the hollow where his shoulder met his neck. It was the same spot he left a mark on Stiles. He released a sigh, a small hitch of pain evident as Stiles’ fangs pierced his skin. He instinctively wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer as he buried his fingers in the back of Stiles’ shirt.

The sensation of marking Derek was completely different from being marked by Derek. Stiles could feel the shock run through his body, straight into Derek’s. It was as if an electric current was running through him, a possessive claim of want running through his brain. A broken mantra of  _'mine'_ and  _'mate'_  pulsed through his mind. A shiver ran through him as his jaw released its hold on Derek.

There was no roar of approval this time, just a silent but respectful bow of heads, recognizing that Derek and Stiles were officially bound to one another completely. It was much more melancholy than the other ceremony, both Derek and Stiles leaning away from one another instead of tightly clasping onto one another to share a brief kiss.

All at once, Stiles felt empty and whole, the feeling causing his fox to sadly whimper, head ducked as it curled in on itself.

 _‘There’s no such thing as happily ever after,’_ Stiles heard Malia’s voice ringing in the back of his mind. He had hoped she was wrong, but he was starting to accept that the tales of love his mother once told him as bedtime stories were in fact just stories. Stories that were invented to ease the pain of knowing he was one day to mate for duty, not love. Love was something he could find in his books.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The moon hung brightly overhead, calling them for another run beneath its light. Even the unspoken awkwardness that had fallen between the Hales and Stiles couldn't stop them from partaking in a run together. They had all entered into a silent agreement to not ask Stiles or Derek what had happened in the fox territory, causing them to walk down separate hallways if necessary. The forced meals were becoming unbearable, Peter actively commenting on it—which often resulted in a swift kick to his shin from Talia.

All chose to ignore it until Cora couldn't any longer. During their dance lessons, Stiles had become clumsy, tripping over his own feet as he tried to perform the correct steps. He would apologize, attempting to perform the move again, only to result in failure.

“Whatever you did, fix it,” Cora snapped at Derek as they exited the palace, heading towards the forest to meet the rest of their family.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Derek replied, slightly annoyed by the way Cora had been glaring at him during dinner.

“Whatever you did to upset Stiles. He’s your mate, fix it,” Cora stated. “Mother couldn’t even snap him out of it. Did you know he walked straight into Peter without realizing it? The poor guy turned scarlet red and apologized for nearly ten minutes before Peter got him to stop.”

“He’s been out of it lately,” Derek commented.

“Ever since you went to the fox territory and spoke to the council, Stiles has been melancholy. He barely eats,” Cora harshly stated. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that he’s lost weight.”

Derek had noticed. Stiles would eat the bare minimum before excusing himself from the table. At first Derek had thought he was anxious over his impending heat, but the week for it had come and gone with no heat occurring—much to Peter’s amusement, who brought it up in the most embarrassing ways, regardless of Talia’s chastising and Derek’s threats—and it still didn’t change Stiles’ new habits.

“Things happening to one’s mate doesn’t escape them easily,” Derek stated.

“Well, you are doing a miserable job doing something about it,” Cora replied.

“We had a fight, alright?” Derek confessed as he grabbed Cora’s arm to stop her from walking.

“I could have told you that,” Cora rolled her eyes as she spoke. “Just apologize.”

“It was about Kate,” Derek grumbled.

“I hate her,” Cora grumbled back.

“It wasn’t just about her though,” Derek explained, releasing his hold on his sister. “He knows about Paige.”

Cora paused, carefully looking Derek over. “How does he know about Paige?”

“I told him about her being my chosen mate ... But he knew how she died. I don’t know how, but he knew,” Derek replied.

“I told him,” Talia’s voice interrupted them.

The Hale siblings turned to find their mother standing near them, adorned in her standard running robe. Talia gestured for Cora to continue walking, leaving her a moment with Derek.

Cora bowed her head to her mother, parting from Derek in favor of the forest. Derek looked after Cora, wishing that she had stayed, sparing him some of his mother’s impeding lecture.

“Cora’s worried about Stiles,” Talia stated, taking a few steps towards Derek.

“Everyone is,” Derek answered, not looking at his mother.

“Everyone including you?” Talia questioned, a hint of criticism in her voice.

“Especially me,” Derek replied, looking at his mother.

“You do not act as one whose mate is slowly withering,” Talia stated. “Most would be wrapping themselves around their mate, fear of illness.”

“He doesn’t want me around,” Derek replied, turning his head to stare at the ground.

“And this is you speaking from actual knowledge or assumption?” Talia placed her hand under Derek’s chin, forcing him to look up at her.

“We’re not like most mates,” Derek honestly replied.

“You’re not, but that doesn’t have to stop you from caring about each other,” Talia explained. “I’ve seen the way he stares after you, as if he can’t look away.”

“He’s convinced he’s competing for my affection,” Derek stated.

“Is he?” Talia questioned, her eyebrow slowly climbing into an arc.

“You know I have no one—”

“That’s not what I asked,” Talia calmly replied. “Is he competing with another? One whose shadow still lingers over your heart.”

Derek looked away from his mother, looking up at the moon.

“She is dead, Derek,” Talia voice sternly stated. “Some times we have to let go of the past in order to accept the future.”

“She didn’t choose to leave me,” Derek replied.

“And Stiles isn’t choosing to leave you either,” Talia explained. She gathered Derek’s hands in her own, prompting him to look at her. “What happened to Paige was awful. But it wasn’t your fault, as much as it wasn’t Stiles’ either. You closed yourself off, Derek, because you thought it would be easier to heal that way. But, some times, you need to air out a wound in order to let it heal. You cannot bury yourself in that crypt with her, just as I couldn’t with your father.

“I’m not saying your love for Paige was a lie or even means less. But I am telling you that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to find a happiness. We all have a destiny, Derek, and more often than not, you are going to experience pain and heartbreak that makes you want to give up.” Talia reached a hand up, cupping Derek’s cheek in the palm of her hand. “But you’re a Hale. We keep going even when we reach our last leg to stand on, because there is always a better tomorrow.

“Now, you have a choice to make. You can either accept Stiles’ feelings towards you, or you can continue to let each other wallow in self-pity. Loving him isn’t the end of everything you’ve been through. But what you choose to do is your choice, no one else’s. And you have to live with it.”

Derek searched his mother’s face, part of him still clinging to the fact that she was the one who told Stiles about Paige. He was confused that his mother was telling him how he felt, but understanding that he was too closed off to realize it himself; too proud to admit that the Omega had managed to duck through his flirtations to actually learn things about him—to actually care about him.

Derek turned his head to notice Stiles approaching, slowly walking beside Peter as they conversed. Talia released her hold on Derek, moving to join Cora in the distance.

“For the last time, Stiles,” Peter sighed. “I am not a senior citizen. I am fine.”

“It was still rude of me to not pay attention to where I was going,” Stiles replied, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“I’m sure you were preoccupied with thoughts of your upcoming heat,” Peter replied, knowing Derek could hear him.

“Some what,” Stiles mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it, everything eventually falls into place like it should,” Peter replied, clapping his hand against his shoulder.

Stiles gave Peter a faint smile before turning his attention to Derek. He broke eye contact to give a slight bow of his head in respect, slipping by Derek to go join the Hale women.

Peter laughed when the twins came barreling by him, calling after Stiles. He stood beside Derek, both of them observing the way Stiles genuinely smiled at the twins, listening as one hurriedly spoke over the other.

“You’re an idiot,” Peter said to Derek.

“Not you too,” Derek partially growled.

“Oh, so the others told you as well?” Peter amusingly asked.

“Told me what?” Derek played along with Peter’s game.

“That you have a very kind, warm and loving mate who stands faithfully by your side and you can't leave that crypt to even try and care about him,” Peter plainly stated.

“Yes, I have been told that,” Derek replied.

“Omegas are family oriented, did you know that?” Peter commented as they watched the twins pulling at Stiles, both fighting to hold his hand before Stiles pointed out that he had two, one for each. “That’s why their claws do more damage than Alphas. It’s to guarantee they can protect their mate and pups. They unfortunately can’t sustain damage the way Alphas or even Betas can. They’ll die to protect family.”

Derek turned his head to look at Peter. “Are you threatening him?” The anger obvious in his growl.

“What?” Peter gave Derek an exhausted, flabbergasted look. “I actually  _like_ the boy. I think he’s the only good thing about you, lately. I’m just telling you what the guards have been whispering.”

“I haven’t heard—”

“You pissed off Kate, who in turn won’t tell Chris anything,” Peter stated. “I have my own spies who tell me things. However,  _I’m_  only stating that you don’t have to worry about Stiles hightailing it if something happens. He’ll stay and fight. If necessary, to his last breath for us. For you.”

“What have the guards said?” Derek growled.

“Rumors that some wolves are unhappy with your taste in mate. Sour that it runs vulpine.” Peter’s eyes scanned the forest, rolling his shoulders as an unsettling air fell over them.

“We shouldn’t run then,” Derek stated.

“We don’t run, we break tradition and our people grow weary,” Peter explained. “All I’m saying is for you to keep an eye on Stiles, even in the palace. I can only keep eyes on him for so long, and he’s had his head in the clouds as of late.”

Derek nodded, turning to look at Peter. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Peter looked at Derek, allowing them to share a small look of understanding before stating, “You’re my nephew. I’ve lost enough loved ones in this senseless war. And Stiles, whether you have realized it yet or not, has become part of this family. And right now, he’s the one in most danger. Wolves hate him because he’s a fox, and foxes hate him because he’s an Omega. How much are you willing to bet that someone exists who hates him enough to have him murdered to start this war anew? Or hates you enough to frame you for his murder? Because no matter the reasons, if one of you is killed, this whole peace goes out the window. And Stiles, in his current state, is the weakest. Plus, as your mate, he’s your weak spot already.”

Derek turned his attention to Stiles. “If something happens to me—”

“I will get him to his father,” Peter stated.

Derek looked at Peter before nodded. He turned his attention back to the others, spotting a flash of orange fur tumbling onto the ground with two grey fluff balls following. Talia howled to Derek and Peter, a signal that she and the others were ready, waiting for Derek to begin the run.

“I hope to the gods that doesn’t happen,” Peter sighed, shedding his robe before transforming into his wolf form.

“If only the gods were merciful enough to care,” Derek murmured in response, shedding his own clothes before taking on his wolf form.

Derek howled before taking off down the trail. He kept his pace brisk but slow enough that a Stiles weighed down by fatigue could keep up beside him. He felt a small ache in his chest as Stiles remained behind him, choosing to run beside the pups instead of beside him.

They came to a clearing, electing to rest some before they continued in their hunt for a deer. Derek sat a little bit away from the group, meticulously watching the others. Cora and Stiles pranced back and forth, playfully sparring with each other before the pups joined in. Peter sat beside Talia, both of them pretending to watch the others, their eyes flickering over the trees around them. Derek was thankful, realizing that Peter must have had a talk with Talia prior to discussing it with him.

The pups disrupted Derek’s thoughts as they both started running towards him, tumbling into his legs. He looked down at them, watching the pups yip at him before they started prancing similar to Stiles. They were displaying what they learned, eager to seek approval from the head Alpha. Derek glanced over at Stiles, noticing how he smiled at the pups before looking up at Derek.

Stiles ducked his head, uncertain what Derek was thinking. He felt a warmth move through his body in a wave, joyful that Derek was at least looking at him. He looked up when he heard the pups barking. They were rolling onto their backs, baring their stomachs to Derek as he playfully nuzzled them. Something constricted in Stiles’ chest as he watched Derek play with the twins.

Derek had become the patriarch for his family since his father died, assuming the role of father for his brothers. Stiles often snuck small looks here or there when the twins practically climbed over Derek for attention when they had their fill of him. He actually preferred those moments, relishing the opportunity to see Derek’s softer side. The twins would both fight to sit in his lap and beg for a story, or sit next to him during meals and feign the inability to cut their own food in hopes Derek could do it for them.

Stiles blamed his fox, desperate to revel in the fact that he found a mate with appropriate parenting skills. He shook his head, trying to shake off the fact that he was trying to convince himself they could even have children.  _Two men don’t work. Besides, what would it even be? A fox-wolf hybrid?_

Stiles abandoned his thoughts when he heard the rustling of brush in the distance. He lifted his head, catching sight of a fleeing deer in the distance. He moved forward to take the pups from Derek, allowing him to turn his attention towards their intended prey.  _Wolves aren’t ones to shy from a challenge_ , Stiles noted.

Talia turned to Peter, both of them sharing a single look before taking off after the deer. They pursued with the sole purpose to tire it out. Cora bolted after her mother and uncle, this time splitting from them to hunt with Derek.

Derek, however, paused as he looked at Stiles. He looked down at the pups before looking back at his mate.

Stiles tilted his head, confused by Derek’s hesitation. He was surprised when Derek took a few steps forward, pressing his muzzle into Stiles’ throat just under his chin. Stiles moved his head back, allowing Derek better access. He returned the gesture when Derek pulled back, overjoyed by the comfort of contact. He gave Derek a little nudge, urging him to go. He playfully nipped at Derek’s ear in reassurance before he settled down next to the pups.

Derek still hesitated before he turned and headed after his family. His feet were heavy against the ground, his primal instincts screaming at him to go back to Stiles; back to his mate in order to protect him from an impending assault.

~0~0~0~0~0~

It was taking Derek and the others longer than before to track down the deer, and the pups were growing restless. They started to snap their teeth at each other, annoyed that they were left behind. Stiles playfully pushed them with one of his paws, gleefully pouncing back from them as they started to play with him once more. It wasn’t long before they were sprawled out on the forest floor, panting as they caught their breath from exhaustion. The pups moved to snuggle their bodies close to Stiles, yawning as they grew tired, unaccustomed to staying up late for the hunt.

Stiles rolled until he was resting on his belly, a twin pushing into his side as another tried to climb on him. He pretended to be uninterested in the twin that tried to climb him. He released a slight chuckle as the pup fell off, tumbling onto the ground. Falling, however, did not discourage him as he pranced up to Stiles once more, attempting the climb again.

Minutes passed before the pup recanted his attempts, opting to rest beside his brother. Stiles ignored his urge to curl around the pups, embracing a cozy sleep for himself. He looked up at the moon before his eyes scanned the trees for a sign of the others.

Stiles looked down at the pups, tilting his head at them when he saw they were suddenly on their paws once more, anxiously dancing. Both the pups were looking in the opposite direction of where the others went. Stiles followed their gazes, standing as he attempted to see what their wolf eyes did.

Mal whimpered, hiding his face behind Stiles’ leg when Alex began to growl. Stiles easily scooped Alex backwards with his paw, preventing him from running off after whatever it was that spooked Mal. A shiver ran up his spine, causing his fur to prickle against his skin as it stood up. He immediately pulled the pups back to him, taking a defensive stance when he saw a shadow flash by the trees.  _Predator_ , he thought, fear and uncertainty filling his gut. He released a loud growl, uncertain how he was going to protect both Mal and Alex from an unknown assailant.

Stiles however, wasn’t prepared for a creature to come barreling straight at him from the trees. He released a howl to try and gain the attention of the pack—wherever they were—quickly pushing the pups away from him and towards safety. He barely dodged the animal, catching an up-close glimpse of the furred creature.  _Wolf_. It was definitely a wolf, but it seemed more like a rabid monster than how regal and beautiful the Hales were.  _Then again, the Hales aren’t trying to tear me apart_.

Stiles carefully watched the wolf, fear gripping him when he saw it register the pups. He quickly reared up on his hind legs to claw at its face as best he could, a weak attempt to distract it.

The creature took the bait, fixing its eyes on Stiles as it turned back to face him. Stiles moved backwards, keeping a careful eye on it as it slinked closer to him. He caught sight of the pups cowering beside one of the trees in the distance, too frightened to move. Stiles pranced from side to side, causing the wolf to snap its fangs at him.  _A few more moments. Talia, Peter, Cora … Derek. Derek’s coming back._

Stiles yelped when the wolf lunged at him, causing him to stumble backwards as he lost his footing. He tried to turn his body in time to regain his balance when he felt fangs sink into his hind leg. He released a cry of pain, trying to snap his teeth down on a vulnerable part of the wolf’s head to get it to release him.

Snap.  _Muzzle._ Snap.  _Skull._ Snap.  _Lip. Let go! Let go!_ Pop!  _Eye_.

The wolf used its strength to toss Stiles like a rag doll into the nearby tree before releasing a pained howl. It shook its head, trying to cover its punctured eye with a paw as it forgot about Stiles, only focusing on its own pain.

Stiles cried out when his body slammed into the tree trunk with a loud thunk. He tried to stand, his entire body enflamed with an aching pain. The more he tried to stand, the weaker he became before his legs suddenly collapsed beneath him. He saw Mal and Alex lifting their heads to look at him, both of them whimpering.

 _Get up. Get up!_  Stiles yelled at himself. His legs were shaking as he tried to stand once more, his hind leg uselessly hanging as dead weight, refusing to heal.  _Alpha. It’s an Alpha_. He felt his stomach drop, realizing that no matter how much pain Stiles managed to inflict, there was no way the wolf was going to let him walk away. He looked back at the pups when he heard them both beginning to howl. Their howls sounded increasingly stronger the more they attempted to do it in unison.  _They’re calling the pack back_.

The wolf released a growl, causing Stiles to look back at it. It was facing Stiles once again, teeth completely bared as it snarled and snapped at the air. It began to lower itself, moving to lunge straight for Stiles. Its good eye glowed a blood red, confirming Stiles’ fear that it was an Alpha.

Stiles used what was left of his strength to barely dodge the wolf, painfully landing on his hurt leg, causing his body to partially crumple as he released a pained whimper. He felt the teeth on the back of his neck, dragging him backwards. He dug his claws into the ground, trying to pull himself out of the wolf’s grasp.  _Mal and Alex. They need to run_.

Stiles whimpered as the wolf tightened its jaw, driving its fangs into Stiles’ neck. His limbs were dangling by his side as his strength left him, his ability to fight completely drained. He knew he was going to die, his thoughts drifting to his father and Scott, before drifting to the pups and the other Hales.

Stiles’ last thoughts drifted to Derek, wishing he could see him once more.

A loud howl suddenly tore through the air in reply to the pups' own weak ones. The pack was coming back.


	6. To Protect a Fox, To Save a Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! A lot of editing and changing events/storyline to make it all work. I'm liking how it will end now.
> 
> And today is my birthday, so happy birthday to me by being productive and actually posting something!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Derek easily caught up to Cora, racing to get to the deer. Talia and Peter slowed their pace when they caught the scent of blood. They looked at each other before Talia barked at Derek, catching his and Cora’s attention.

None of them had wounded the deer, yet it was already injured.

Derek and Cora looked at one another. He felt his stomach tighten when he realized what was happening.  _Stiles_.

Derek turned and bolted in the direction they had just come from, heading towards Stiles. He was taken off guard when he felt a lithe, smaller body slamming into his. He stumbled to the side, casting a look towards the animal.  _A fox_. Derek bared his teeth, growling as he flashed his eyes at the creature. He didn’t want to fight, but he was prepared to tear through whoever got in his way.

Peter flew passed Derek, snapping at the fox to gain its attention as a distraction. Derek turned to start running once more when he caught sight of Talia grappling with multiple foxes. He was about to join her when her fangs easily grasped the fox that lunged at her before tossing it far away from her. Cora moved to assist her, leaving Derek free to run back to Stiles and the pups.

Derek started running once more, the ground under his feet falling away from him as he gained speed, pushing himself passed his normal limits. He could catch his breath when he reached the pups and Stiles. His ears perked up when he heard the sound of two small howls, resonating as one.

 _Mal. Alex._ Derek howled loudly as he started to rush towards the sound. He registered the sound of his mother following behind him, her need to protect her pups pushing her to gain ground.

Derek slowed as he reached the incline towards the clearing where they normally shared in their kill—where they left Stiles and the pups. He caught sight of the wolf cornering Stiles, who was barely standing. He started to race down the hill, ignoring the fact that his missteps were causing him to stumble, almost spraining his ankles. He rushed passed the pups, knowing his mother was headed right for them. Instead, Derek headed straight for the wolf, his entire vision bleeding red when he noticed it had its fangs wrapped around Stiles’ neck.

~0~0~0~0~0~

It all happened in a blur that Stiles couldn’t recall the exact events.

Stiles had heard the sound of heavy paws pounding against the ground, racing towards him, a deep growl booming loudly across the forest clearing. He had heard the sound of a body slamming into another, the force causing the teeth around his neck to release him. He stumbled forward, his body rolling to the ground, his legs completely collapsed under him. He turned his head in time to see a black wolf clawing and snarling at the rabid one.

 _Derek_.

Stiles felt a soft muzzle push against his own, an attempt to judge his condition. He looked over to its owner, noticing a worried Cora looking down at him. He noticed the blood staining her muzzle, curious how it got there. He heard the growling of another wolf as it came to stand over him.

Peter lowered his stance as he hovered over Stiles’ injured body, bracing himself to join the fight. His shoulders were lacerated with claw marks; bite marks decorated along his belly. He had realized after distracting the fox that it was the Alpha of the pack. He had managed to capture its hind leg before breaking it, making it easy to go in for the kill. He had hurried to follow after Derek, making himself another obstacle for the animal to get through if it wanted Stiles.

Stiles struggled to turn his head, catching sight of Talia standing over the pups. Talia’s teeth were bared as she growled and barked, encouragement for Derek to finish the fight. Talia’s fur was matted from the wounds decorating her sides, but she was still as intimidating as ever, baring her teeth with a growl.

Derek easily outmaneuvered the other wolf, gracefully dodging and returning every claw and snap of teeth. He lunged, grabbing onto the back of the wolf’s neck. He loudly growled, his eyes burning blood red as he forced the wolf onto the ground.

Stiles struggled to stand, his three good legs draining of strength. He released a faint whimper when his body collapsed under him.

Derek tightened his teeth around the wolf’s neck when he noticed that Stiles couldn’t even stand. His growl grew deeper, crossing into feral.

Stiles looked over at Derek, barely lifting his head as his panting grew heavier. He was exhausted, his body aching all over. His brain was telling him to close his eyes. He was losing a great deal of blood from the wound on his leg, and there was no telling how long he had before passing out.

Derek held Stiles’ gaze, not releasing his grip on the wolf.

Stiles released a small whimper, wanting nothing but Derek to drop the wolf and comfort him. He was hurt and scared. He wanted his Alpha. He wanted his mate. He wanted  _his_  Derek.

Snap.

The forest had gone silent, all the Hales ceasing their growls when they realized the threat was dealt with. Derek had swiftly snapped the wolf's neck under the pressure of his fangs.

Derek moved forward, dragging the wolf’s limp body forward. He waited for Cora and Peter to move back from Stiles before he unlatched his teeth from the dead wolf’s neck. He laid the wolf in front of Stiles before moving beside him. He lowered his body, gently pressing his muzzle into Stiles’ throat.

It was an offering—a promise from Derek to Stiles. No one was going to hurt him again.

Stiles reached his head up to gently rub his muzzle against Derek’s. He closed his eyes, letting out a faint whimper when a shot of pain radiated up from his leg. He turned his head from Derek, looking at his leg as he started to lick at the wound, and attempt to clean it; to ease the burning. He froze when he felt his tongue beginning to sting.  _Foxglove_ , was the last thought Stiles had before he passed out.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“He’s responding well, Derek,” a male voice broke through Stiles’ sleep.

“It’s been two days,” Derek growled, his voice close to Stiles.

“It takes a while for foxglove to drain from the system,” Melissa’s voice tried to calm Derek.

“What if he doesn’t get better?” Derek questioned. “What if—”

“Stiles has been in excellent health his entire life,” Melissa reassured Derek.

“What about his mother?” Derek softly questioned. “What if he gets sick and can’t recover?”

“Stiles’ mother was very ill, Derek,” Melissa explained. “She spent many weeks—months—in bed before she passed. Stiles hasn’t had any complications or symptoms to suggest that he or any of his offspring will fall ill.”

Stiles wanted to stop them—wanted to convince Derek that he wasn’t defective. He knew lineage mattered in both fox and wolf society, connections meaning nothing unless bound by blood.

“I don’t care about offspring,” Derek growled under his breath. “I care whether or not my mate is going to wake up.”

“Has something happened to spark this concern?” the man from earlier questioned Derek.

A pregnant pause passed, adding to Stiles’ uncertainty whether or not he should announce that he was conscious.

“He skipped his heat,” Derek finally admitted.

“What?” Melissa asked in confusion. “But that’s—”

“Possible,” the man interrupted her. “There’s nothing to worry about, Derek. It’s common for mates—especially arranged mates—to have issues with heats.”

“Meaning?” Derek partially grunted.

Another painfully pregnant pause passed.

“Have you shared Stiles’ bed?” the man questioned.

“… No,” Derek hesitantly replied.

“I see,” the man replied as if he was expecting that answer. “Stiles’ body is confused.”

 _This is beyond awkward_ , Stiles thought, trying to fall back asleep instead of listening to this increasingly embarrassing conversation.

“You claimed him with your mark, however you have yet to physically claim him as your own.”

“He’s not property,” Derek bit out, hating the way the man referred to Stiles.

“I know, Derek,” the man calmly replied. “But natural wolf and fox instincts think otherwise. His body thinks you’re unhappy with him, putting a delay on his heat until you are welcoming of him.”

Derek remained silent for a few moments. “That won’t affect his healing, will it?”

“No, he should heal once enough of the poison leaves his system,” the man stated.

“How long—”

“I’m okay,” Stiles finally managed a quiet groan as he opened his eyes. A pain pounded in his head, a feeling of fatigue and dehydration hitting him at once.

“Thank the gods,” Melissa stated, a small smile crossing her lips. “I’ll send word to your father immediately,” she informed Stiles as she quickly exited to room.

“I told you he was responding well, Derek,” the man who had spoken first replied.

Stiles tried to blink the bleariness from his eyes as he focused on the hand holding his own. He managed to open his eyes enough to look down at his hand. He recognized Derek’s hand encasing his own. He moved his fingers against Derek’s, slightly wiggling them to make sure Derek was real.

“Do you need anything?” Derek’s voice gently asked from somewhere above him.

Stiles turned his head to notice Derek was leaning over him, slowly inspecting him. He gave Derek a small smile, weakly shaking his head. “I’m okay,” he hoarsely stated.

The other man cleared his throat before commenting, “You’ll be feeling some discomfort for the following few days.”

“Thank you, Deaton,” Derek stated, keeping his eyes on Stiles.

“I’ll come back later to check on your leg,” Deaton replied as he bowed before exiting the room.

“Do I look as bad as I feel?” Stiles partially laughed as he looked up at Derek.

“Your hair’s a little untidy,” Derek commented, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

“Not everyone can be a sleeping beauty,” Stiles yawned.

“You’re doing a pretty good job at it,” Derek softly commented.

Stiles looked at Derek, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the hunched arch in Derek’s shoulders as he remained sitting by his bedside. He frowned at the dark circles around Derek’s eyes, noticing just how exhausted his scent smelled.

“You haven’t slept at all, have you?” Stiles asked.

“I’ve slept some,” Derek answered, gently rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to erase the look of fatigue. He knew it didn’t work when Stiles continued to frown at him.

“A few hours in the past two nights isn’t ‘some.’ That’s closer to none.”

“Stiles, I couldn’t leave—”

“Derek—”

“It was my fault you got hurt in the first place,” Derek finished. He looked down at their entwined hands, focusing on the small pulses of pain he was absorbing from Stiles. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“I’m a crap hunter, we both know that,” Stiles lightly replied. “It wasn’t our fault someone decided to attack me.”

“Us,” Derek corrected him.

“Us,” Stiles echoed. “Did you find out who it was?” He asked, idly rubbing small circles around Derek’s knuckles as he avoiding making eye contact with him.

“An Alpha from an exiled pack,” Derek explained. “It was hard, but Deaton was able to force a reversal transformation. The pack had issued a statement a while ago that their Alpha had been missing.”

“For how long?” Stiles asked.

“Several months,” Derek replied.

“Several months? But that’s—”

“I know,” Derek replied, his eyebrows furrowing. “It means that whoever did this had been planning it for a while. Before us. Before Laura.”

“Do you think …” Stiles hesitated, unsure if he should press on. Derek had never talked about Laura’s death with him. He had moments where he opened up and told Stiles small details or stories about Laura—there and gone in a flash—but he made a point to avoid talking about her death. And Stiles allowed Derek that small comfort.

“Could be,” Derek replied. “Regardless, they already consigned themselves to their fate. If they are responsible for Laura as well, their end will be welcomed that much quicker.”

“Revenge isn’t a valid response, Derek. It’s an emotion,” Stiles stated.

“Then what is?” Derek questioned weakly.

“Judgment,” Stiles answered, cupping Derek’s face in his hands. “Punishment for what they’ve done. To you; to all of us.”

“You’re starting to sound like a true diplomat,” Peter’s voice caused them to look away from one another as Stiles dropped his hands from Derek's face. “How are you feeling?” He asked, ignoring the way Derek glared at him.

“Much better,” Stiles replied, sitting up straighter.

“I told you it was no reason to nearly choke me to death over,” Peter replied with a forced smile. Stiles could tell Peter cared, but allowed him to endorse his lie.

“I still might choke you to death,” Derek muttered under his breath.

“Don’t tell me you still feel guilty about this,” Peter replied. “No one is to blame here besides the person who orchestrated this entire plot.”

“Derek,” Stiles spoke his name softly, gaining his attention. “Peter is right. You couldn’t have done more than you did—you saved my life.”

“You were still injured,” Derek argued.

“Because the coward waited for you to be far enough away,” Stiles explained. “But you came back.”

“Those foxes were a distraction,” Peter stated, breaking the shared look between Derek and Stiles. “They wanted to keep you away long enough to guarantee that wolf killed Stiles.”

“Foxes?” Stiles questioned, looking at Derek in confusion.

“We noticed the deer was already wounded as we pursued it, knowing something attacked it in order to provoke it into running,” Peter explained.

“When I turned to head back to you, that’s when we were attacked by a handful of foxes,” Derek added.

“But that’s …” Stiles looked down at the blankets. “Foxes wouldn’t want to place me in danger.”

“Maybe they were told Derek would be vulnerable, and realized too late you were the intended target?” Peter questioned. “I told you the rumors were gaining momentum.”

Derek growled under his breath.

“There was something wrong with that wolf,” Stiles stated. “It seemed insane. How could it broker a deal with foxes and yet seem so crazed?”

“It tried to kill a Hale Alpha’s mate,” Peter commented. “Of course it was insane.”

“It seemed like it wanted to kill anything,” Stiles added, trying to ignore the way Peter’s comment made him feel like Derek  _wanted_  him. “That I was just the consolation prize.”

“I think Stiles is on to something,” Derek added his opinion for the first time. “Not only did that wolf have foxglove lacing its teeth, but Deaton said it was starved from moonlight, for at least a full cycle. That’s enough to drive any wolf insane.”

“Are you saying someone tortured that wolf—to the point it became rabid— _and_  laced its teeth with foxglove?” Peter asked in disbelief.

“And then released it when they knew I was far enough away, leaving Stiles vulnerable with two wolf pups to protect,” Derek bitterly added.

“Which means someone is trying to kill me,” Stiles stated. He looked down at his hands once again, twisting them in the material of his blankets. “What about my fath—”

“Derek sent Scott back to guard him. He’ll be arriving to see you as soon as possible,” Peter replied. He gave a noncommittal shrug to Derek when he casted him another glare.

“Thank you,” Stiles stated, looking up at Derek. He was about to hold Derek’s hand when two small figures burst through the doorway, running by Peter.

“Stiles!” The twins’ voices exclaimed.

“Be easy with him,” Talia’s voice called as she rounded the corner to stand in the doorway with her brother.

“Hey,” Stiles smiled as Max and Alex clambered up onto the bed.

“I told you he was fine,” Talia smiled as she watched her sons excitedly leap into Stiles’ arms.

“We were so worried,” Mal stated.

“I knew you were fine,” Alex coolly replied.

“Nu-uh! You cried,” Mal exclaimed.

“So did you!” Alex yelled back as his face reddened.

“Hey,” Derek’s voice caused them to freeze, turning to look at their older brother. “I’m sure Stiles would rather hear about your day than you two fight.”

Stiles smiled at Derek, turning his attention back to the twins. He gently ruffled their hair as they told him stories about trying to sneak out the night before to visit him, only to have Peter chase them back to their rooms.

“He literally chased us!” Alex exclaimed.

“For an old guy, he’s pretty fast!” Mal added.

Talia rolled her eyes.

“Why is everyone convinced I’m ancient?” Peter questioned. “I’m younger than you,” he added as Talia laughed. “If I’m ancient what does that make you?” He questioned his sister as they started to walk down the hall, leaving the group.

“Timeless,” Talia smugly replied.

Stiles smiled as he listened to their distant laughter.

Almost an hour passed before the twins started to dose off, their heads resting on Stiles' torso.

“Alright, I think Stiles has to rest now,” Derek stated as he watched the twins jerk their heads to stay awake.

“Derek,” they groaned in unison, dragging out the vowels of his name.

“Maybe your brother wants me to himself,” Stiles teased them. He noticed the flicker of embarrassment flash over Derek’s features before his face returned to its normally stoic look.

“Ew,” Alex stated as he scrunched his nose. He quickly jumped down from the bed, reaching back to pull Mal with him. “Come on, they’re going to be gross and kiss.”

“How do you know that?” Mal questioned as he followed Alex.

“Because that’s what Cora and Isaac do to each other when one of them gets hurt,” Alex replied with a tone that accused Mal of being stupid.

“But Stiles and Derek are actual mates, so I'm sure it's different. And Stiles is going to have a baby,” Mal joyously stated as they started down the halls.

“Men can’t have babies,” Alex replied.

“Uncle Peter said Stiles could because he’s an Omega,” Mal defensively shot back.

“Uncle Peter also said Derek was part bunny because of his front teeth,” Alex countered.

Stiles ducked his head, trying to hide his laughter when he noticed the blush fall over Derek’s cheeks.

Derek nearly slammed the door in an attempt to block more moments from his embarrassing family out.

“Bunny teeth, huh?” Stiles spoke first.

Derek let out a rough sigh. “Yes, I know I have big front teeth,” he stated.

“I think they’re cute,” Stiles commented.

Derek arched his eyebrow, not believing Stiles’ sincerity.

“I want all my babies to have them.” Stiles was grateful when Derek shared a laugh with him.

“The twins have a tendency to absorb and repeat anything they hear. It’s really the worst,” Derek explained.

Stiles nodded, feeling an uneasiness settle between them. “I wanted to … to tell you that, what you did in the forest—to the wolf,” he paused, looking up at Derek. “Thank you.”

Derek was looking at Stiles as if he was an anomaly that just appeared out of thin air; something that Derek had never seen before. He opened his mouth before his lips settled into a thin line. He crossed his arms over his chest as he recalled the events. “I meant it,” he finally stated.

Stiles looked up at him, nodding. He knew it was a spur of the moment action, forcing Derek to demonstrate his power to defend what was his. Derek had to protect what was his if he was to continue leading as an Alpha, regardless of owning the title of head Alpha. And for all intents and purposes, Stiles was his and the wolf had stepped over the line. But Derek had not only overpowered and executed the wolf; he had laid it at Stiles’ feet as an offering. It was the animal equivalent of making an unbreakable vow that he would never again allow anything to actively harm Stiles.

“You should get some rest,” Derek finally offered. “Cora is going on about how she isn’t going to have you ready for the festival if you don’t get better soon.”

Stiles smiled as he reclined, relaxing into his pillows. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. Although I think I’d rather avoid exerting myself.”

Derek fondly nodded in agreement with him. “For your safety, Erica and Boyd will be stationed outside your doors.”

Stiles nodded, accepting Derek’s statement. He paused as his eyes scanned Derek’s form. He gently bit his lip before asking, “Are you not going to stay?”

Derek looked at Stiles, his exhaustion weighing him down as he observed just how comforting Stiles and his bed appeared. “I have a few things I have to handle,” he explained.

“You need rest,” Stiles argued.

“I have to—”

“A few hours,” Stiles cut off Derek’s words. “Please, stay with me.” He pulled back the sheets of his bed, easily shimmying his body over to make enough room for Derek.

Derek looked hesitant, as if getting into the bed meant something more than sleep.

“You need rest. I need the comfort of my mate to heal,” Stiles offered as excuses Derek could use. “So for once, stop being a stubborn ass and do as I tell you,” he added in a light tone.

A small smile flickered over Derek’s features before he slowly slipped into the bed. He rested his body next to Stiles, turning his head to face him. He observed him as Stiles turned his body to put out the candle’s flame on the nightstand next to his side.

Stiles turned his body back to face Derek, the moonlight spilling into the room illuminated them enough for them to see each other. He took a moment before curling his body along Derek’s. He gave a sigh of content when Derek slipped his arm around him, pressing an opened hand against the small of his back in a protective manner. He settled his cheek against Derek’s chest, his fingertips gently playing with the laces of his shirt.

They both fell asleep to the comforting sound of each other’s heartbeats slowly falling in sync with one another.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles wounds didn’t heal as fast as he had hoped. The wound remained fresh for the next few days, causing him to scrunch up his nose at it whenever a sharp sting pulsed from it if he stood for too long. He grew bored of remaining in bed, but thankful when his friends would visit. Whenever Lydia and Allison grew too busy to spend time with him, Scott attempted to change his schedule, rotating between him, Kira, Erica, and Boyd. Cora demanded he get better in favor of finishing his dance lessons before the festival—Isaac would cast him a sympathetic look that told him Cora was more concerned about him than the dance. The twins would visit, either with Talia or Peter, telling Stiles about their day as their mother or uncle fondly looked on.

Stiles’ favorite times were when Derek managed to avoid his advisors long enough to visit him. The advisors eventually caught on, catching Derek in Stiles’ room before nagging him to leave. That was how Derek finally allowed Stiles to walk the palace hallways while using him as a crutch. With enough convincing, Derek finally allowed Stiles outside the palace’s walls when Stiles offered that the advisors would never think to look there, convinced Derek would never let an injured Stiles out of the palace.

The marketplace was buzzing—as it normally was—only, this time the merchants actively interacted with Stiles. The merchants were all welcoming, smiles and cheers when they noticed Stiles was well enough to join Derek. All of them greeted Derek with familiarity, pleased that he knew them all by name.

Derek remained by Stiles’ side as they walked throughout the marketplace, inspecting several of the booths as they passed them. Stiles kept his hand on Derek’s arm, gently resting his weight on him as they walked. He frowned whenever Derek questioned his will to stay longer, asking if he was well enough to continue.

“I’m not going to break,” Stiles stated.

“I didn’t say that,” Derek replied.

“Keep asking me and I’ll let go of your arm and defiantly walk on my own,” Stiles teased.

“Fine,” Derek receded. “I’ll leave you alone, if you promise to tell me the moment you’re uncomfortable with walking.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, giving Derek a theatrical sigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you when I feel like fainting and you can carry me back to my room.”

“I’ll leave you here to sleep,” Derek teasingly replied.

“No you won’t,” Stiles taunted. “I’m too precious to leave out here.” He was smiling when he looked up at Derek. His hand was wrapped around Derek’s bicep, leaning his weight into him as he slightly limped. He rested his head against Derek’s shoulder, prompting Derek to look at him.

“Wouldn’t want to leave you where someone could have their way with you,” Derek stated in a deadpanned voice.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Stiles repeated. He continued to look at Derek, calmly holding his gaze. He was suddenly aware of just how close their bodies were; of just how much of his body he was pressing into Derek’s. He ducked his head, smiling to himself as he turned his attention to the booth beside them. He released his hold on Derek’s arm in favor of inspecting the various materials covering the table.

Derek greeted the merchant, smiling as his eyes lingered over Stiles.

“They’re dancing scarves,” the merchant explained to Stiles.

“They’re beautiful,” Stiles replied with a smile. He continued to look through them until he came across a cool blue scarf, decorated with silver. He inspected the intricate embroidering, smiling when he noticed the small crescent moons hidden within the pattern. “This one is gorgeous,” he replied, looking up at the merchant to offer a smile.

The merchant bowed his head, pleased that he was receiving such a compliment.

Stiles turned to Derek, holding the scarf up to him. He placed the scarf around his torso, exactly where it would be tied at the beginning of most of the dances Cora was teaching him.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, arching his eyebrow at Stiles. “How do you know where a dancing scarf goes?” His tone told Stiles that he was skeptical of any answer he would provide.

“I told you Cora was preparing me for the festival,” Stiles smiled as he held the scarf up higher, closer to Derek’s eyes in order to compare them. “This actually makes your eyes look softer and less judgmental.”

“Funny,” Derek deadpanned as he took the scarf from Stiles. “I take it blue is your favorite color,” he commented, not caring if the merchant overheard him.

“Blue is pretty,” Stiles offered a shrug. “And you happen to look good in blue. Looks like I lucked out, huh?” He smiled as he turned back to the scarves. He started to search them, trying to determine which one Derek would like the most. The only problem was that Stiles had absolutely no idea what Derek’s favorite color was. “If you had to choose one, which one would you choose?” He asked as he looked up at the merchant.

The merchant ducked his head, a small laugh before looking back at Stiles. “It’s not my place to say, your majesty.”

Stiles gave him a puzzled look before turning to Derek for clarification.

“Mates pick out dancing scarves for one another,” Derek explained, still holding the blue one in his hand.

Stiles nodded, gesturing towards the blue scarf. “I picked yours,” he stated.

Derek looked down at the scarf still in his hands, running his fingertips over the material as he nodded to himself. He looked up at Stiles through his eyelashes as he took a step closer to him. He ran his hand along the table, each second bringing his body closer to Stiles’.

Stiles kept his ground, letting Derek crowd into his space. He missed the contact from mere moments ago, ignoring the fact that he could hold onto Derek whenever he wanted, especially in public. He smiled when Derek’s hand brushed over his, leaning into his space. He could feel the heat from Derek’s body as he took hold of a scarf at the end of the table. He continued to hold Derek’s gaze, refusing to look away from him. A small shiver ran up his arm as a scarf's material glided over his skin, causing his hair to stand up.

Derek moved the scarf to hang around Stiles’ neck. He ran his fingers over the material, fingertips softly caressing his mate mark.

Stiles finally tore his eyes away from Derek, looking down at the material draped partially over his shoulder—one of the many different ways the scarf could adorn its dancer. The material was a deep crimson red, decorated with gold embroidery. He recognized the little suns etched into many of the stitches. It made a perfect match for the blue one Stiles chose for Derek.

Derek turned his attention to the merchant, his fingers still resting over Stiles’ shoulder as they moved to idly play with the short strands of hair at the base of his neck.

Stiles subconsciously pressed into Derek’s touch, growing more accustomed to the way he often reached out to touch him whenever they were together. Derek had started to do it more often since the attack, leaving scent markers here and there on Stiles. His body always relaxed when he reached out to touch Stiles, as if a relief was washing over him when concluding that Stiles was real.

Stiles took a step forward, pressing his body against Derek’s, causing Derek’s hand to abandon its place on Stiles’ neck—much to Stiles’ disappointment—before taking a place along his back. He released a soft sigh of content when Derek pressed his open palm against the small of his back, slowly coming to rest on the top of his hip.

Stiles was turning the scarf around in his hands when he looked up at the merchant, noticing he was shaking his head before bowing to them.

“It would be an honor to be the one providing you with your dancing scarves,” the merchant humbly answered.

Stiles smiled, thanking the merchant.

The merchant offered to have the scarves delivered to the palace, gently folding the material once they handed them back. Stiles thanked the merchant again as they parted from him.

“I still can’t believe it,” Stiles commented after a few moments.

“Believe what?” Derek questioned as he kept his arm around Stiles, easing his need to place weight on his leg.

“That I’m walking around the marketplace outside the Hale palace,” Stiles stated, watching the bustling crowd. He smiled as children rushed by them, yelling as they played a game of tag. “That I have my arm around Derek Hale,” he added as he looked up at Derek. “I wouldn’t have guessed that when I first met you.”

“I hope not,” Derek replied.

Stiles paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “What does that mean?” He asked, confused by Derek’s meaning.

Derek released a sigh as if he said something he hadn’t planned to. “I … It’s a long story, Stiles,” he offered.

“Do you not have time?” Stiles softly asked.

Derek hesitated before looking at Stiles. His eyes flickered over his face, his features softening as he nodded his head. He led Stiles over to the large oak tree growing to provide shade around the fountain dedicated to the Druids. It was the spot most secluded from the active market, perfect for talking without someone eavesdropping.

Stiles silently thanked Derek when he helped him sit on the rim of the fountain. He gently rubbed his leg, a distraction from having to look up at Derek.

Derek sat next to Stiles, placing enough distance between them. If it was meant to make Stiles feel more at ease, it failed. “I never …” He paused, looking up to observe the people. “I never told you why I came back after Paige died.”

Stiles looked up, nervous to hear Derek mention her name. Derek had avoided talking about her since the marking ceremony, knowing that it only upset both of them.

“The guards said you haven’t been down there,” Stiles quietly commented, knowing Derek had spent many days dedicated to visiting Paige's statue in the crypt.

“I don’t have a need to be,” Derek answered. “I belong up here. With my people.” He turned to look at Stiles, gently slipping his hand into his. “With you.”

Stiles’ heart fluttered, feeling lighter than normal.

“I had spent two nights in the forest, alone, after her death,” Derek started. “I wanted to disappear; to stop having to worry about who I was going to lose next. But I was only sixteen and had never paid close attention to a map, so I was hopelessly lost,” he faintly smiled when Stiles released a small laugh. “On the third night, someone stumbled upon me. I was surprised because I hadn’t noticed them.”

Stiles nodded, hanging onto every word Derek spoke.

“Somehow, I confused myself enough that I ended up without a few hundred yards from the fox palace.” Derek was watching Stiles, taking note of his reactions. “That’s when I ran into a small child, groggily trudging through the trees. He had shortly cut—practically shaved—amber hair; pale skin decorated with beauty marks; big doe eyes. He was tightly clutching his stuffed lamb to his chest.”

Stiles looked up at Derek, catching the look of hopeful understanding in his eyes. He knew Derek was describing him. He still  _had_  Lord BaaBaa, the fiercest stuffed lamb in the land. “How … But I don’t remember you.”

“You were sleep walking,” Derek explained. “I don’t know how a ten year old managed to sleep walk by the palace guards, but you managed to.”

“I started sleep walking after my mother died,” Stiles admitted. “I guess I got good at it,” he offered a small, sorrowful laugh. He looked back at Derek before gravely asking, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Derek looked away from Stiles, a wave of guilt punching through him as he released Stiles’ hand. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “Your scent was different than other foxes. I thought that it might have been because you were a child, but then I put everything I knew together: you smelled different because you’re an Omega. I realized that the child in front of me was an Omega fox child; heir to the Stilinski pack—heir to the fox clan.

“I could have killed you and hurt your people as much as they had hurt me by killing Paige. Part of me wanted to—my anger and grief demanded that I do something. Instead, I found myself following you, watching to see exactly where you were going—what you were doing. It became evident that you were sleep walking when you tripped over about a dozen tree roots,” Derek paused, his eyes focusing in the distance as if the entire memory was replaying right in front of him. “And then you sat down under one of the trees, curled up into a ball and started crying. Soft, wet sobs.

“And that was when I realized what was happening to me. The war was changing who my parents raised me to be. I was becoming a killer,” Derek’s voice was heavy as he spoke.

“Derek, you didn’t—”

“But I thought about it. It crossed my mind,” Derek firmly stated. “I could have killed you before I even knew you. You were just a child.”

“And so were you,” Stiles replied. He waited for Derek to look at him before he continued, “You were a child, Derek, scared and angry because someone you loved was murdered. Because  _you_  were almost murdered.”

“I still don’t know what I would have done if your father hadn’t found you,” Derek confessed.

“You’re a good man, Derek,” Stiles stated, slipping his hand into Derek’s once more.

“I went back home because of you,” Derek suddenly confessed. “I went back home to try and end the war. I wanted to put a stop to what was turning us into senseless killers. At least if it meant saving you, and children like you.”

‘ _Derek Hale sends his regards_ ,’ the assassin’s voice rang loudly in Stiles’ head. “Then why … why did you try to have me killed later?” He asked, his voice becoming hoarse as his mouth grew dry.

“What?” Derek asked in surprise.

“I’m not saying I hold it against you,” Stiles started. “I know the war was awful and we can’t hold grudges—”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was rough as he spoke. He hesitated before he reached out to turn Stiles’ head, making him face him. “I never tried to have you killed,” he searched Stiles’ eyes for understanding as he spoke.

“It was after your father died,” Stiles explained. “About six years. An assassin broke into the palace. Malia and I were alone when he found us,” he weakly added.

Stiles’ chest ached as he recalled the memory.

_Stiles was sitting in the library with Malia, the night dragging on as they elected to remain a few hours longer than normal. Malia was pouring over a book on the windowsill as Stiles sat at the table by the fireplace, finishing his tutoring assignments for Harris. The assassin startled Malia first when he burst through the doors, catching the two foxes off guard. Malia yelled at Stiles to run, tossing her book at the cloaked figure, managing to hit him in the face. Stiles flipped the table, creating an obstacle for the assassin before running for the servants’ entrance._

_The assassin was quick, much faster than any wolf Stiles had seen—which meant Scott. The masked figure easily caught up to Stiles, grabbing the back of his shirt, giving the material a quick snap caused Stiles to fall backwards. He hadn’t planned on the gangly nature of Stiles’ limbs, taken off guard by Stiles’ flailing arms._

_Malia took the opening, tackling the assassin with a loud roar. Stiles scurried away from the assailant, grasping the chair he had been sitting in moments ago. He quickly stood, waiting for Malia to be just out of the way before he smashed the chair over the assassin’s body. He quickly grabbed Malia’s hand, yanking her after him. They raced out of the library, heading into the foyer._

_Malia gasped, her hands clinging to Stiles when they stumbled across several bodies of dead guards—guards they knew and played with as children—whose blood stained most the floor. He told Malia to run the other way; that she’d be safer if she weren’t with him._

_“I’m not leaving you,” Malia snapped the fifth time Stiles told her to._

_Stiles jumped backwards when he noticed the assassin stumbling out of the library. He tightened his hold on Malia’s hand as they started running down the steps._

_The assassin grabbed Malia, yanking her backwards, causing Stiles to lose his balance._

_Stiles tripped, his hand slipping from Malia’s as he fell down the remainder of the stairs. He tried to shield himself as best he could, the steps sharply bruising random parts of his body. He landed at the bottom of the steps the wrong way, knowing he broke something in his leg as he let out a loud cry of pain._

_Malia screamed his name, followed by a painful cry from the assassin. Stiles was surprised when Malia’s hands were under his arms, pulling him onto his feet. She placed his arm over her shoulders, hurrying them towards where they both hoped more guards would be._

_The assassin was faster than them, easily cutting them off before they made it half way across the foyer._

_“Malia run,” Stiles told her as they backed away from the assassin._

_“I’m not leaving you,” Malia grumbled._

_“It’s not leaving me if I’m telling you to run,” Stiles replied, releasing her from his side as he shoved her away from him._

_Stiles wasn’t prepared to be shoved down. He stumbled, knowing it was Malia who pushed him as he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Malia roared again at the assassin, sparring with him as best she could; as best a teenage Beta fox could with a grown assassin._

_Stiles only saw the flash of the blade before the assassin was pulling it out of Malia’s chest. “Malia!” He yelled her name as he clambered to his feet, diving his body forward to catch her. He wrapped his arms around her as they fell to the floor, cradling her against his chest. “Malia,” his voice cracked as he spoke her name. He knew the blade pierced her heart when she didn’t respond, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling as her body refused to heal._

_Stiles turned his head to look at the assassin. His breathing was heavy, fractured into stuttered puffs of air. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, his voice weak and whimpering in fear as he looked up at the masked figure._

_“Derek Hale sends his regards,” the assassin stated as he raised the blade above his head._

_John’s familiar, loud roar echoed loudly off of the foyer’s walls, briefly pausing the assassin’s next move. Stiles turned his head away from the assassin when his father easily made his way into the room; easily made his way between the assassin and Stiles._

_Stiles continued to look at Malia, forgetting about the assassin as he gently brushed the hair away from her face. His hand was shaking as he tried to close her eyes. He broke down, the sobs freely raking through his body as he held Malia against him. He pressed his face into her shoulder as he cried._

“Malia died protecting me,” Stiles’ own voice pulled him out of the memory. He looked over at Derek when he heard him stand.

 _He’s … angry_ , Stiles realized when he noticed the rigid line of Derek’s shoulders.  _Maybe he doesn’t believe me_.

“Who was it?” Derek suddenly asked.

“What?” Stiles asked in confusion.

“Were you able to identify him?” Derek asked.

“No,” Stiles admitted.

“What did he look like—”

“Derek, it’s over,” Stiles stated.

“Someone broke into your home to murder you, murdering your mate in the process, and they used my name as justification,” Derek’s voice was heavy, bitterness in every word.

Stiles stood, moving to close the gap between their bodies. He slipped his arms around Derek’s waist, pressing his cheek against the top of Derek’s shoulder.

“But it wasn’t you,” Stiles firmly stated.

“Stiles,” Derek sighed his name, the anger from moments ago draining from him.

Stiles placed a chaste kiss against Derek’s shoulder. “Derek, please don’t blame yourself. Part of me must have known it wasn’t you, because I never blamed you for it. I had once thought that maybe you wanted revenge for your father, but I never gave it a second thought. I wouldn’t have come here—I wouldn’t have chosen to be your mate—if I didn’t trust you.”

Derek placed his hands over Stiles, both of them staying like that for several minutes as they took comfort in one another. Derek was the one who broke the silence.

“That’s what I had meant when I said I hoped you wouldn’t think about having your arms around me when we first met,” Derek started. “A little pervy to think of a ten year old wanting to mate a sixteen year old.”

Stiles released a small laugh, gently nodded into Derek’s back. “Just a little. You are an old man. Although I think I have a thing for older men.”

They remained in the market place for another hour before Stiles started to complain about the heat. He held his arms out to show Derek just how pink his skin had gotten in the sun, stating that it wasn’t his fault for being susceptible to sunlight—calling Derek a “perfectly tanned god,” much to his embarrassment once he realized he uttered it out loud.

They were passing by the courtyard’s garden when Stiles paused, halting Derek in the process. Stiles took a step closer to the bushes and flowers, inspecting the random patch of dirt.

“The foxglove,” Stile stated, realizing that the random patch of dirt was replacing where the flowers had once been.

“My mother had it removed from the palace walls the moment we got back from the run,” Derek explained. “She made a motion to have foxglove uprooted from the land. The people agreed once she explained what had happened.”

Stiles turned to look at Derek. “She didn’t—”

“You’re part of our family, Stiles,” Derek explained.

Stiles reached out to hold Derek’s hand, opening his mouth to speak. He turned his head when he heard several of Derek’s advisors speaking to themselves somewhere down one of the accompanying hallways. He frowned when he heard one saying they needed to go over several things with Derek.

Derek released a dejected groan, running a hand over his face. He looked from side to side, trying to spot a place to get away from their approaching gazes.

Stiles turned his head, looking into the garden. He smiled pulling Derek by the hand as he quickly led him into the luxuriant area.

Derek silently followed him, quickly darting after Stiles as he slipped through several thickets of tall, maze-like shrubbery. He looked around, amazed at the small area the vegetation had avoided, completely obstructed from view.

“Is this where you snuck away to weeks ago?” Derek questioned, observing Stiles easily making himself at home as he sat down.

“Sometimes I feel more fox than human,” Stiles shrugged with a smile as he left enough room for Derek to sit next to him. “I need to hide in shrubbery,” he added with a faint laugh.

Derek allowed his body to fall beside Stiles’, bringing his legs up close to his chest. He felt as if they were playing a game of hide and seek, something he used to play with his sisters when they were younger. He looked over at Stiles when he released another small laugh.

“What?” Derek asked.

“I feel like we’re little kids,” Stiles stated in a hushed tone. “You know, like we’re hiding from adults?” He gave Derek a small smile.

And that was when it hit Derek. It was a small feeling, like a seed had planted and taking its time to grow roots in his core before the flower finally decided to blossom. It was something he once thought he felt with Paige, something he thought he wasn’t going to feel again. He took his time running his eyes over Stiles, taking in his entire form. The pale tone of his skin; the constellations of beauty marks begging to be charted; the long, slender nature of his limbs and fingers; the adorable upturn of his nose; the soft, inviting pink of his lips; the inviting bubble of joy in his laughter; the warm and welcoming swirls of honey and whiskey that were his eyes; the way Stiles looked at Derek, ducking his head to hide his blush, as if Derek was more than just an obligation to him. Everything Stiles was made Derek  _feel_ , something he thought withered and died in him a long time ago.

Stiles was a dork. An intelligent, kind and loving, fragile but strong, indescribable dork. And here he was, sitting with Derek, hiding in a shrubbery-secluded area, avoiding Derek’s advisors because they wanted to spend more time with each other. Stiles  _wanted_  to be with Derek. He elected to show Derek his secret hiding spot; elected to spend the day with him as his body healed. He let Derek be with him because he wanted him there.

Stiles smiled, attempting to suppress a laugh when the advisors started to pass by the courtyard’s garden, complaining in not being able to find Derek.

“He’s been spending an increasing amount of time with that fox,” one of the advisors stated, his tone less than friendly.

Derek released a low growl, moving as if he was about to exit their hiding spot to confront the advisor. He stopped when he felt a pair of hands on him. One hand settled on the curve of his back between his shoulder blades—just over his tattoo—as the other rested against his chest. He turned to see Stiles settled close to him, his body leaning into Derek’s as he shook his head.

Stiles didn’t want Derek to go, knowing he’d have to admit defeat and spend time with the advisors. Even if it was to defend Stiles, he still didn’t want him to leave. He moved his hand from Derek’s chest to cover his mouth when Derek started to say something.

“That  _fox_  is our Alpha’s mate,” another advisor stated.

“Mate or not, our Alpha needs to focus on his duties,” a third advisor replied, an attempt to calm them from arguing with one another.

“At least Stiles has been recovering well. Once he is healed, Derek will be back to what is important,” the original advisor stated as they started to exit the hallway.

Stiles took in a steady breath of air before he realized he still had his hand over Derek’s mouth. He slowly took his hand away from Derek, curling his fingers into his palm as he tried to prevent the warm tingling sensation from growing, a reminder of Derek’s lips against his skin. His tongue darted out over his lips, quickly wetting them before he bit down on his bottom lip.

Stiles started to move his body away from Derek, giving him enough space to quietly slip out of the small hiding spot. He looked down at his feet as he dug his heels down into the ground. He was surprised when he felt Derek’s hand slip under his chin, making him look up. His eyes flickered over Derek’s face, looking several times from his eyes to his lips.

Derek leaned in, gently capturing Stiles’ lips with his own, his fingers slowly caressing just under his jawline. For the first time, he leaned into Stiles’ welcoming mouth, given into his need to feel more—to give more. He had to show Stiles that he was important—the only thing to hold Derek’s thoughts as of late.

Stiles placed his hands on Derek’s chest, burying his fingers in the material of his shirt. He pulled Derek towards him, pulling him over his body as he started to lean backwards. His legs fumbled as he spread them to house Derek in between his thighs.

Derek moved with Stiles, placing his forearm next to Stiles’ head as he draped his body over his. He moved his hand from Stiles’ chin, cupping the side of his hip as a shudder ran through Stiles’ body. He shifted his body to prevent himself from painfully pinning Stiles between him and the ground, pressing his leg up under Stiles’, just barely brushing against his ass—which earned a faint sound of approval from Stiles as he shifted into Derek’s body.

Stiles felt the heat rushing to his face as he opened his mouth to Derek. The kiss was much deeper than anything they did before, but this wasn’t for show. There was no one to benefit from witnessing it—no one but Derek and Stiles, sheltered from the chaos of their life by the garden’s strategic use of shrubbery. He let Derek have control of the moment, allowing his tongue to probe his mouth, to lead Stiles through the kiss.

A heat started to pool at the base of Stiles’ spine, building in pulsing waves the more he became aware of Derek’s pelvis aligning with his. He released Derek’s shirt, moving his hands down his body. He rested his slightly trembling hands on Derek’s hips, hesitantly grasping them as he tried to move them against his own as encouragement.

An encouragement that Derek took.

Stiles moaned when Derek rolled their hips together, friction that sent sparks to Stiles’ nerve endings. He opened his mouth further to Derek, burying his fingers in Derek’s hair. He moved his hands to cup Derek’s ass, continuing to roll their pelvises together, moaning when he realized he was feeling Derek’s hardened cock brushing against his own. He let out a heavy groan when Derek pulled back, releasing his mouth in favor of kissing his neck. He dropped his head against the ground as his back arched into Derek’s welcoming hands, exposing his neck even more under his mouth. He was heavily panting, digging his nails into Derek’s scalp as he kissed and nipped his way down Stiles’ torso. It was all so new and overwhelming for Stiles’ senses to easily process, almost bordering on torturous. And he loved it.

Derek ran his hands up under Stiles’ shirt, dipping his head down to kiss the series of beauty marks decorating Stiles’ stomach. His heart continued to stamp out a heavy beat against his chest, his primal instincts telling him to mark and claim as his tongue brushed against the smooth surface of Stiles’ abdomen.

“Derek,” Stiles’ moaned Derek’s name when his hands settled on his hips, his teeth nipping at his navel. Heat ran to his face when he realized how much his body was reacting to Derek’s touch. He shifted his body when he felt a liquid fire running through him before settling in his core. He closed his eyes, wishing he couldn’t feel the way his body actively prepared him for anything that might progress, the slick slowly coating his insides.

Stiles never recalled feeling this sensation when thinking about being with Malia. He had loved her, as a friend, confidant, pack, family. But the sensations running through his body, resonating from wherever Derek touched him before punching through him in wave after wave, were completely new. They were begging Derek to claim him, to mark him, and in that moment, Stiles knew it wasn’t just his biology, but Derek himself.

Stiles recalled all the times his physicians lectured him on preparing for the day he and Malia would mate. He remembered the way they said he’d feel vulnerable and weak when being claimed by his mate. They said his instincts, as a male Omega, would cause him to crave another male. If it weren’t for the glorious things Derek’s mouth was doing to his senses, Stiles would have scoffed at the memory. Stiles always felt the attraction to both male and female, finding a beauty and sexual attraction for both sexes. But Derek was on a completely different level. He just didn’t want to be claimed by Derek, he wanted to claim Derek for himself.

Stiles placed his hands over Derek’s, pulling one away from his hips in order to place soft, needy kisses into Derek’s open palm. He looked down at Derek’s head, panting heavy as his body started to shift, knowing his eyes were glowing as his fangs descended. His breath briefly caught in his throat when Derek looked up at him.

Derek’s pupils were blown wide, his irises glowing their crimson red. His breath was hot against Stiles’ exposed stomach, coming in jagged pants that matched Stiles’ own unsteady breathing. He instantly moved up Stiles’ body when Stiles reached for him, quickly swallowing down the sound of his name as it left Stiles’ lips.

Their kisses turned heated, biting each other’s lips as the other moaned their name. Whenever one rocked their hips, the other rolled their hips to meet them. It was a dance that they never knew they had perfected. The intensity alarmed Stiles because of how much he wanted—needed—Derek’s touch. The world was falling away from them, focusing on nothing but each other. It was as if nothing could stop them.

Almost nothing.

A loud, piercing scream tore through the palace, causing Stiles and Derek to pull away from one another as they clutched their ears. They both knew it belonged to a certain redheaded banshee.

 _Lydia_.


	7. Dance of Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely birthday wishes! I had a wonderful birthday, and loved hearing your responses to the chapter.
> 
> Sexual content awaits you in this chapter. Read. Love. Enjoy. Tell me about it.
> 
> I listened to two bellydancing songs that really inspired me to envision how the Dance of Souls sounded/felt/looked. And they are:
> 
> The song during the solo, invitation part of the dance is ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rnv-Dpq4XnI)).
> 
> The song during the second, paired part is ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZ2_r3Zj_as)).

Stiles was grateful Derek pulled him to his feet, his warm hands steadying him as his knees wobbled. He gave Derek a small smile when he straightened his shirt, dusting the dirt off of his clothes. They both knew it was a pointless attempt to hide the fact that they snuck off, but a formality they tried to accomplish. He clutched Derek’s arm as they made their way out of their hiding spot to investigate the scream.

Stiles felt his stomach flip when they ran into both John and Talia upon exiting the garden. He offered a small, completely guilty shrug that resulted in John shaking his head and Talia hiding her approving smile behind a hand.

“Are you two alright?” Talia finally asked. “Besides the fight Stiles seemed to have with the shrubbery.”

Derek released an annoyed huff of air, shaking his head.

“It was a nasty plant, but Derek growled it into submission,” Stiles added, ducking his head in laughter when Derek turned to give him a similar look he had given Talia.

John shook his head, suppressing a laugh of his own.

“What happened?” Derek asked, completely changing the subject.

“I’m not sure,” Talia seriously replied. “I left Peter with Mal and Alex when we heard it.”

They made their way down the hallway, towards the scream’s origin. Stiles’ hands fastened on Derek’s arm when he saw a guard’s body on the floor, Lydia and Allison standing off to the side.

Lydia was hugging Allison, hiding her face in the other woman’s shoulder. No matter how often the screams happened, Lydia never got over the fact that her screams meant someone’s death. She took comfort in Allison’s hand brushing the back of her head, fingertips gently running through her hair.

“Lydia,” Stiles called her name, causing the pair to turn their attention towards the group.

“You’re okay,” Lydia stated with a smile, a sigh of relief falling throughout her body.

“What happ—” Stiles froze when he noticed they were in front of his room. His eyes flickered toward the guard, noticing for the first time the curly blond hair. “Erica?” His voice hitched in disbelief.

“I’m okay,” Erica’s voice announced from behind Stiles.

Stiles quickly spun, catching sight of Erica and Boyd hurrying down the hallway. He released his hold on Derek to turn and embrace Erica.

“Oh, hey,” Erica stated in surprise before returning Stiles’ embrace. “It’s okay, I’m fine,” she reassuringly added.

“I’m glad,” Stiles stated as he pulled back from her.

“Where were you two?” Derek calmly asked once he caught sight of other guards and Deaton coming down the hallway.

“Break,” Boyd answered.

“We decided it would be alright to have a break before Stiles got back,” Erica elaborated.

Derek nodded. “I’m glad you weren’t here,” he stated.

Stiles moved from Erica to look into his room when he noticed the door was open. Though nothing appeared to be touched, he still backed away from it, a feeling of uncertainty tightly grasping his body.

“Found anything?” Chris asked as he partially jogged down the hallway, towards the other guards.

“Nothing,” Kate’s voice came from behind Stiles.

Stiles instinctively moved closer to Derek, thankful when Derek reached out to hold his hand.

"The guards have locked down the palace as best they can," Scott answered as he arrived with Kira in tow.

"Lydia, did you see anything? Did your scream give you anything to go off of?" John calmly asked, all of them moving away from the young guard's body as Deaton inspected her.

"A hooded figure," Lydia replied, turning her attention towards Stiles, her eyes briefly lingering over him. "And something about Stiles."

"I think she's right," Deaton replied, looking up from the young woman. "She was killed with a foxglove dagger."

Stiles felt his stomach drop when he caught sight of the woman's face, recognizing her as one of the few guards who followed him and his father back and forth between fox and wolf territory. He turned his body into Derek, hiding his face from the scene.

Derek instinctively wrapped his arm around Stiles, pulling him close. He remained by Stiles' side, even when conversing with Chris and Scott about how to proceed.

"I want more patrols," Derek stated. "But I also don't want anyone getting careless. Patrol in teams, at least until we find who was responsible. I also don't want Stiles or John alone. If I'm not with Stiles, I want one of you with him," he told Chris and Scott.

They both nodded in agreement.

Stiles and Derek waited until everyone dispersed, Deaton having guards assist him in moving the body. Lydia and Allison lingered, waiting to accompany Stiles as Derek's advisors hovered.

"We picked poor timing to sneak away," Stiles released a sad laugh.

"I don't regret it," Derek replied. "I'm not glad a guard lost her life, but I am glad you weren't here."

"I don't know if I'll be able to stay here," Stiles replied, the sense of unease still gnawing at the back of his mind.

"You can stay in my rooms," Derek offered. "At least until I finish with my advisors," he added, as if an after thought.

Stiles nodded before looking up at Derek. "That would make me feel more at ease."

Derek nodded in response as he reached a hand up to cup Stiles' cheek. “If you feel uncomfortable—”

“You have work to do,” Stiles stated reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll keep him company,” Lydia stated as she took a step forward, resting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Derek looked at Lydia, watching her carefully before looking at Allison. Allison gave him an affirming nod, a promise that she’d watch after both Stiles and Lydia’s safety. He finally nodded, quickly leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Stiles’ forehead.

Stiles closed his eyes, welcoming the touch—a faint reminder of their previous activities. His fingers slowly slipped from Derek, hesitant to let him leave his reach. He gave Derek a small smile, knowing his disappointment was showing when Derek cast a fleeting glance back at him before he completely disappeared down the hall.

“So,” Lydia’s voice broke through the silence. “You took my advice, huh?” She was smiling when Stiles turned to look at her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stiles stated, taking Lydia’s arm in his own as they started walking down the hall.

“The disheveled appearance of your clothes, and the dirt in your hair,” Lydia dusted the remnants of dirt out of his hair as she spoke. “Says otherwise, right Allison?”

“Lydia, don’t tease him,” Allison replied when she saw the blush on Stiles’ cheeks. She wrapped her arm around Stiles’ shoulders as they started walking.

“At least Allison is on my side,” Stiles replied.

“Hey, I am on your side,” Lydia replied. “But I think we should discuss strategies. You don’t want your first time in the dirt, do you?”

“Strategies?” Stiles questioned, looking at Lydia.

“Lydia likes playing matchmaker,” Allison commented.

“I’m already mated to Derek,” Stiles commented.

“I know that,” Lydia stated, rolling her eyes because of how obvious Stiles’ statement was. “But you have done everything backwards. You need to have some romance even though you’ve reached the desired ending result.”

“I’m lost,” Stiles stated.

“Sex, she’s talking about sex,” Allison offered.

“Lydia,” Stiles partially groaned.

“All I want is to make sure you know what is going to happen,” Lydia innocently replied.

“I know how sex works,” Stiles quipped back.

“Do you know how sex between two men works?” Lydia asked. “Because sex between a man and a woman, and even between two women, is much easier to perform than between two men.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Stiles jokingly questioned.

“Yes,” Lydia plainly stated.

Stiles turned to gape at Lydia, shocked that the rumors were false. Rumors about Lydia and the young Whittemore—the Beta wolf Jackson—were constantly spreading throughout the courts. Jackson had actively sought after Lydia, not caring who knew, only adding to the fact that people would talk. And talk they did. Everyone stated how they knew Lydia was smitten with Jackson, never casting an eye on any other man or woman.

“Lydia,” Allison stated her name with warning.

Lydia looked at Allison briefly before looking back at Stiles. She halted him, forcing Stiles to turn and look at her. “Stiles, do you care that I am in a loving, caring relationship with another woman?”

“Uh, no. Why would I?” Stiles questioned, uncertain what Lydia was asking.

“I love this woman, and she loves me. She cares for me—about me—and I her,” Lydia was staring into Stiles’ eyes, her gaze briefly flicking to look over his shoulder at Allison. “And isn’t that all that matters? Should her standing—her family background—or her clan matter?”

Stiles immediately understood.

“Oh,” Stiles smiled, turning to look at Allison.

Allison casted her eyes to the ground, avoiding looking at Stiles as a small blush fell over her cheeks.

“Lydia, Allison,” Stiles turned to look at both of them as he spoke. “I think it’s wonderful. And that you shouldn’t have to keep it secret anymore.”

“Why do you think I offered the idea of peace?” Lydia questioned, taking Stiles’ arm once more as they started to walk again. “Once things have settled down for good, we’ll all breathe a little easier. Allison and I will be able to live freely, without accusations that the Martins are siding with the wolves in a tireless war,” she explained.

“Are you telling me that you made peace between our warring clans for Allison?” Stiles smiled as he asked her.

“I’m fond of romantic gestures,” Allison replied with a small smile.

“Fond, she says,” Lydia teased. “I spoil her rotten.”

“Well, I am excited for the both of you,” Stiles replied, wrapping his arms around them both.

“Thank you,” Allison and Lydia stated in unison.

“Now, about what to expect,” Lydia started, smiling when Stiles partially groaned, knowing there was no way to stop her from giving him a lecture.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“Are you going to dance with Derek at the festival?” Mal excitedly asked as Stiles cut the meat on his plate for him.

“It’s a surprise, Mal,” Cora stated, her tone warning him to keep the secret.

“Besides, you two will be in bed during the festival,” Talia replied.

“Mom,” Alex and Mal dragged out the vowels as they whined.

“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” Talia mimicked them.

“There will be plenty of other festivals for you to attend,” Peter commented. “Such as Lady Martin’s claiming ceremony and feast to follow.” He didn’t hide his wince of pain when Lydia kicked him under the table.

“If she ever mates herself off,” Stiles strategically added.

“Well, with the war ended, I don’t see the harm in it,” Talia stated, looking up from her plate to glance between Lydia and Allison. “I think the Martin and Argent households would unify nicely.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Peter stated as he lifted his hands in a placated manner when Lydia glared daggers at him.

“My brother doesn’t get away with anything when it comes to me,” Talia explained when she noticed the twins were too invested in Stiles. “That includes him transferring an exceptional guard—the head of the guard’s daughter—to a neutral land and family for a favor.”

Peter shrugged—as if it all made sense for Talia to know that—before he began to drink his wine.

“Regardless, I approve,” Talia gave a small nod to Lydia and Allison.

“As do I,” Stiles stated.

“That leaves Derek,” Allison spoke for the first time.

“Oh please, Stiles had him wrapped around his pinky. He’ll convince him,” Peter commented.

“Derek will just want you two to be happy,” Stiles explained, priding himself at not blushing at Peter’s comment.

Stiles spent the rest of the dinner waiting for Derek to arrive. He tried to slowly eat his meal, saving some for when Derek would arrive. He was saddened when Boyd arrived to inform the family that Derek was still working with his advisors and would have his dinner brought to him. He frowned, knowing the advisors were probably still bitter at the thought of Derek avoiding them.

Stiles looked up at Boyd in surprise when he came closer to him. He smiled at him thankfully when he handed him a piece of paper. He slowly unfolded the parchment when he was confident that eyes were not lingering on him.

 

_Stiles,_

_My advisors, unfortunately, are bitter old men and women with no compassion in their hearts to give me breathing room. I have addressed their concerns about me devoting my time, and for lack of better words, I told them they could rot for all I cared. I fear that is what prompted them to withhold me from dinner. I pray I will be through before the night is over. Until then, please remain in the company of the others, particularly Erica, Boyd, Isaac, or even Allison if Lydia is inclined to share her. I was sincere in my invitation for you to use my rooms as you see fit. I am looking forward to seeing you again soon._

_Yours,_

_Derek_

           

Stiles felt a wave of warmth run through him as he repetitively read Derek’s parting. ‘ _Yours_.’ He quickly folded the letter, placing it in the pocket of his trousers when the rest of the table started to stand. He followed them towards the private courtyard, not feeling like retiring from the group. He took a seat on one of the benches, watching Lydia holding Mal’s arms in order to swing him around with her as Peter allowed Alex to clamber up onto his back.

Talia took a seat next to Stiles, watching over her family and friends. “You’ve had a trying series of days,” she started, her eyes still lingering on the others.

“That’s one way to put it,” Stiles replied, looking down at his leg.

“I suppose peace never came without a price,” Talia offered.

“I wish none of this happened,” Stiles confided in Talia, his words were but a few silent breaths against the wind. “I’m grateful for everything you and your family have done for me—have meant to me. But this mysterious enemy—it’s trying to consume us all; to drag us down into chaos by using me as a linchpin to rekindle the war with new fire.”

“We all wish things like this don’t happen to us,” Talia offered as she watched the twins playing with Peter and Lydia. “But in the end, we can only make best of what the world gives us,” she stated. “Many people in this world deserve death through judgment. Other deserve life, only to die long before their time. It’s how we honor them that counts. It’s the future we’re building for our children,” she turned to look at Stiles. “Domination, submission, power and greed, they’re all an illusion. Sometimes those who are thought of as the weakest can make the greatest difference, because they are stronger than anyone thought imaginable.”

Stiles looked at Talia, uncertain if he could accept her statement as a fact. But he knew she had a point: peace came at a price that was paid by an unexpected few, and it was how they moved forward that mattered.

“We have to keep moving,” Talia added, looking back at her family and friends laughing together. “For them.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles felt at home in the plush material of the pillows surrounding him, twisting and turning under the blankets until he was completely snug. He remained focused on the book in his hands, fingers idly moving across the rough material of the pages. His mind continued to wander to thoughts of Derek, of their time spent hiding in the garden. He blamed the smell of Derek overwhelming his senses; that and the conversation he previously had about proper preparation for male on male sex with Lydia and Allison, (in which he blushed profusely at how embarrassing it was to have two friends lecturing him on it). He hadn’t thought about how they had moved passed where they normally stopped with every other encounter.

 _Who am I kidding? We kiss and then bolt from one another_ , Stiles thought. He moved to place his novel on the nightstand—Derek’s nightstand. He was upset that the advisors kept Derek throughout dinner, delaying Stiles being able to see him again. He sighed as he relaxed into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if Derek had this bedroom his entire life; if he spent his childhood staring at this same ceiling.

Stiles wish his mind didn’t wander. He began to question if he was the first person to see this ceiling besides Derek. He turned on his side, pulling one of the pillows against his chest as he cuddled it. He pressed his face into the material as he groaned, trying to ignore the way uncertainty hit him. He knew Derek had ended things with Kate, but to think that he already shared things with her made his stomach churn and drop.

Stiles started to doze before jerking awake when he heard the door open. He slowly turned his head to look at the person, completely at ease when Derek’s scent wafted over him. He smiled as he watched Derek sit in one of the chairs by the fireplace, unlacing his boots before casting them off to the side. He sat up when Derek leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and resting his head back as he released a heavy sigh.

Stiles easily slipped out of the bed, his feet were warm against the cold tiles as he made his way over to Derek. He slowly moved to stand near his armrest, reaching his fingers out to graze over the top of his arm.

Derek released a pleased sigh, turning his arm up to enclose his fingers around Stiles’ arm as he opened his eyes. He looked up at Stiles, smiling at him.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, gently drumming his fingertips against Derek’s skin.

“A little overwhelmed,” Derek admitted, shifting his body to better settle in the chair.

“Are there any leads about the guard?” Stiles asked, taking the last step forward until his leg was pressed against the chair’s armrest.

“Nothing but rumors Peter managed to get from his spies,” Derek stated in a sigh.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, hesitating as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Was … she killed because I wasn’t there?”

“Don’t think like that,” Derek immediately stated, his hands moving to hold onto Stiles’ hips, pulling him closer. “You’ll break yourself down thinking like that. That guard knew that her duty would have certain dangers when she signed up. She died because a coward tried to murder you.”

Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands on Derek’s arms, eyes briefly flickering to the way their knees gently touched. “If I hadn’t been with you … It would be that assassin all over again.” He looked up at Derek, his emotions opening up like a floodgate. “I don’t want to die, but I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me; because I’m too weak to even protect myself against one enemy,” he let his tears fall as he spoke. “I don’t want you to die because of me.”

Derek immediately stood, pulling Stiles against him as he wrapped his arms around him. He gently cradled the back of Stiles’ head in his hand, pressing his head against his shoulder. “I’m not going to let that happen,” he placed small kisses against his hair as he spoke. “I will tear apart any person that tries to hurt you, or anyone you care about.” He moved his hands to cup Stiles’ face, forcing Stiles to look at him. “I’m putting an end to all of this. I promise,” he added as his thumb brushed over Stiles’ cheekbone.

Stiles immediately leaned forward, placing a kiss against Derek’s lips. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling away from his lips to bury his face in the hollow of his throat, basking in the comfort of his scent. He let Derek slowly move them closer to the bed.

“We both need sleep,” Derek stated as he moved Stiles’ face to rest their foreheads against each other.

Stiles nodded, somewhat disappointed that they were not going to continue where they had left off. But he was tired, knowing that Derek must have been as well. However, he refused to loosen his grip on Derek as he pulled away from him. He lowered himself onto the bed, crawling to the other side as Derek moved to lay behind him. He moved to settle his back against Derek’s chest, pulling the blankets around them. He entwined his fingers with Derek’s, peacefully closing his eyes when he felt Derek’s nose gently nuzzling his hair.

“Have you …” Stiles hesitated, unsure how Derek would respond to the question. “Have you had many lovers?” He winced when he felt Derek’s body move from its relaxed state, muscles becoming rigid as he pulled his face away from its resting place against Stiles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” he mumbled, certain that Derek was insulted the moment his fingers fell away from Stiles’. He felt a heavy swooping in his stomach, the sting of rejection in the tears forming. “It’s not my place to ask. I was just concerned about my inexperience. It’s your—”

Stiles released a small squawk when Derek forced him onto his back to face him. He immediately placed his hands out in a reactive instinct, palms colliding with the solid muscle of Derek’s chest. He stared up at Derek, surprised when he didn’t see crimson eyes glaring down at him, prepared to make him submit.

Instead, Derek’s hands rested by Stiles’ head, his body partially draped over him as he looked down at him. His fingertips idly played with a few strands of his hair as he leaned down to place a kiss against Stiles’ lips.

Stiles happily pushed up into Derek’s welcoming mouth, his hands sliding down his chest before settling against his hips as he turned his body into his. He reluctantly rested his head back against the pillow when Derek pulled away from him.

“Paige and Kate were the only people I’ve … romantically seen,” Derek explained, his hands bracketing Stiles’ head. “I never bedded Paige. I foolishly sought comfort in Kate’s arms after Paige’s death.” He looked away from Stiles, a look of shame crossing his features. He pulled back from Stiles, sitting up as he recoiled from touching him. “She wanted more than I felt willing to give, so I broke intentions with her before I turned eighteen. Over the past few years, when I was foolish enough—usually drunk enough—I stumbled into her bed.”

Stiles sat up, following after Derek’s movements. He drew his knee up to his chest as he watched Derek.

“She wanted me to take her as my mate,” Derek explained, looking away from Stiles. “She tried to convince me. Tried to get me to spend a heat with her. When I refused, she tried to make me think it was a mistake.” He shook his head, an attempt to rid himself of the memory. “Taking a mate isn’t something to be taken lightly, and she was angered that I didn’t think she was  _worthy_.” Something about Derek’s tone suggested that it was Kate’s wording rather than his own.

“Nothing to be taken lightly except when stopping a war?” Stiles asked, releasing his hold on his leg as he watched Derek.

Derek finally looked at him, understanding his reasoning for asking the question. “Stiles,” he started, sighing before he continued. “I wouldn’t have taken just anyone to be my mate, even to end the war. I  _chose_ to accept you because there is something different about you.”

“Derek, I asked because of my own insecurities. I guess I asked the wrong question. I … I don’t really care who you’ve been with,” Stiles admitted, his grip on the sheets tightening. “I suppose this is my attempt at admitting that I wish to have you to myself. I wanted to ask if you had or thought of taking a lover.”

“No,” Derek immediately answered.

Stiles nodded, relieved to finally hear his answer. “Okay,” he happily replied. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t,” Derek stated. “I should have explained my intentions clearly to begin with. I have no intent of taking a lover, now or in the future. And you are what matters now, not my past.”

“I, um, feel the same way,” Stiles stated. “But right now is a time for sleep, not for reprimanding our foolish ways.” He gave Derek a smile, pulling him to lie back in the bed.

Derek settled his body behind Stiles’ as he wrapped his arm around his torso once more. “Good night, Stiles,” he softly stated as he nuzzled the back of his neck.

“Good night, Derek,” Stiles replied as he started to drift off to sleep.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“How is your leg?” Cora questioned, fixing the scarf around Stiles’ waist.

“All healed,” Stiles stated as he continued to peer around the curtain. “But you know that and you’re trying to keep my mind off of panicking,” he added.

Almost a week had passed since the guard’s murder, and Derek’s advisors pleaded with him to continue with the plans of the festival. Derek had reluctantly allowed it, practically doubling the guard with assistance from Scott. John offered to forgo attending the festival, giving the guards less of a full plate to handle, much to Talia’s argument that it was meant to honor both families. John joked that he had Stiles to himself for twenty years, and that he and the Hale pack had all the time after the criminal was caught to catch up with each other. Part of Stiles was grateful his father would be placed out of harms way, yet he begged Scott to stay with his father until everything settled. Scott hesitantly accepted, leaving Kira behind to closely watch over Stiles.

Stiles was nervous all throughout Cora and Isaac’s marking ceremony, almost stumbling off the scaffolding as he and Derek walked out first. He gave Derek a faint smile and apologetic shrug, whispering that he was just clumsy. He refrained from telling him how nervous he was about the upcoming Dance of Souls during the celebration. He was staring out the curtains as he watched Peter distract Derek from searching for Stiles, a weak attempt to guarantee the dance would surprise him. Although, Stiles was certain Derek knew there was something going on the minute Cora pulled Stiles away from him.

“Stiles—”

“I’ll be okay,” Stiles stated as he turned to face Cora.

Cora was still wearing her mating vest, Isaac’s bond mark freshly decorating her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, the ends curled—courtesy of Erica—to hang down around her shoulders. Her own dancing scarf was in a similar position to Stiles, taking place around her hips and the hem of her skirt. She had silver paint decorating her arms and legs, moving up her neck.

Stiles had similar paint decorating his limbs, except it was gold to match the scarf Derek had chosen for him. He had asked Erica and Cora about the symbols and designs they were painting on him, wanting to know about their meaning.

“They represent things that we hope your union will produce,” Cora had explained. “We painted the triskelion on your back to match Derek’s.”

“The other symbols represent hope and peace; prosperity and happiness,” Erica began to explain as she pointed at the different symbols. She avoided one in particular as she spoke.

“What is this one?” Stiles asked.

“Fertility,” Erica answered behind a smile.

“Funny,” Stiles replied, hiding his blush when he noticed Erica painting the symbol over his abdomen.

“It doesn’t have to mean you’ll have a baby. Although, Boyd and I have been debating whether a male Omega can have babies. Boyd says it can only happen with a knot, but I think it’s only a knot and heat that does the trick,” Erica replied as she waggled her eyebrows. “But either way, these will make Derek’s wolf preen when he sees them on you.”

“Don’t tease him,” Cora replied, opting out of teasing Stiles for once, knowing that he was nervous.

Cora’s reassuring hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the memory. “You’re going to be amazing. Derek is going to be very happy.”

“What if he doesn’t want to dance with me?” Stiles looked down at the scarf, recalling the day they chose them.

“He will, Stiles,” Cora confidently replied.

“You look ready,” Talia’s voice stated as she walked through the curtains to see them. “You both do.” She smiled at Cora, embracing her briefly as she pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Cora smiled at her mother, nodding before she turned to talk to other dancers. Stiles knew she was giving him a moment alone with Talia.

“You look wonderful,” Talia stated.

“I feel a little out of place,” Stiles confided with her. He held his arms out to put himself on display. “I’m used to practicing the dance in loose clothes. And not under so many eyes watching me.”

“Dancing isn’t meant to feel like a chore,” Talia explained. “Your body is supposed to freely move with the music; to feel it move through your body. Your partner becomes an extension of your own body as you move together. It’s a combination of trust and compatibility. Even if you feel like you mess up the steps, just move how you feel you should.”

Stiles nodded, knowing that there was no equivalent for him to compare it to in fox culture. He recalled the way his parents would often formally dance at the annual balls, never as intimate or freely as this dance was. He wasn’t as nervous about the performance, but whether or not Derek was going to accept his offer to dance.

“There is something I wanted to give you,” Talia stated, lifting up her hands to put a headpiece on display. “It’s a dancing headpiece. It’s been in the Hale family since the beginning. It was commissioned by one of our ancestors to present to his mate. It was used to perform the first Dance of Souls.

“I wore this when I performed the dance with my husband. It was meant to go to Laura, but …” Talia’s voice trailed off. “It’s normally meant to be worn by the head Alpha’s mate.”

“Talia, I can’t accept this,” Stiles stated, staring at the headpiece. It was golden with metal coins dangling from the main headband. There were red gems over the hooks used to connect the coins, with a wolf carved into the big center coin that would rest in the middle of Stiles’ forehead. “Cora—or Isaac—should wear this.”

“Isaac and I agreed with her,” Cora called as she passed by them to inspect other dancers.

“We want you to wear this,” Talia added. “We decided that you deserve to wear this. You and Derek deserve to share this.” She smiled as she took the headpiece and situated it on Stiles’ head.

Stiles allowed her to fix the dangling coins until they were properly resting against his skin. He felt a swell of pride when Talia gave him an approving smile.

“I’m proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished,” Talia commented. “You’ve come farther than anyone. You’ve cleared obstacles in your path, you’ve built bridges to our future. You’ve done what many wolves and foxes would be too afraid to do themselves: you cared.” She turned to look out at the people surrounding the dance dial, all joyously conversing. She was watching Derek was she commented, “He’s happier. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. Thank you for that,” she added as she turned to look back at Stiles. “ _You_ make him happy.”

Stiles turned his head to peer around the curtains, catching a glimpse of Derek glaring up at Peter, as he no doubt made another excuse to keep him from searching for Stiles. “He makes me happy,” he softly responded.

Talia was pleased as she placed a gently hand on Stiles’ shoulder before moving to exit through the curtains. “Remember, Stiles,” she started as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. “It’s about being one. Out there, you’re not a fox and a wolf—an Omega and an Alpha. It’s not about dominating or submitting, but about accepting each other for every fault and perfection you have. It’s your souls mating to become one.”

Stiles nodded to Talia, watching her exit. He began to pace, an attempt to calm the butterflies circling in his stomach. He knew the dance was about to begin the moment other dancers started to line up by the curtain, all of them excitedly conversing with one another. He began picking at his fingernails, uncertainty hitting him.

The past few days consisted of Derek being pulled away by his advisors, but his nights were devoted to Stiles. He was happy when Stiles agreed to sleeping in his rooms with him, still nervous about the attempts made on his life. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t struggling with the platonic nature of their intimacy, but he was content with holding Stiles in his arms, falling asleep to the soft beat of his heart. He was always the one to pull back, knowing he almost lost control of himself in the garden, his need to claim driving him—which he knew was what Stiles was reacting to. Stiles, however, never shied away from him as he used to, actively clinging to Derek now whenever he pulled away.

“Now listen to me,” Cora’s voice startled Stiles out of his thoughts as she grasped onto his shoulders. She looked him in the eyes, ignoring the other dancers exiting the curtains. “When the first part of the dance ends, and you have your arms open to Derek, keep eye contact with him. Do not look at anyone else, because it will be a challenge that that person dances with you instead of him. He may be hesitant at first, because he’s going to be surprised. Give him a few moments to get his brain working again.”

“Okay,” Stiles stated, stealing a quick glance out the curtain. He slowly fidgeted with the small bangles and bands decorating his arms, trying to focus on something else.

“Come on,” Cora offered, pulling Stiles by his hand out towards the dance dial.

Stiles kept his eyes on Cora’s hand holding his. He hurried his steps, thankful his trousers were loose yet fitted around his ankles, a small guarantee that he wouldn’t trip and fall. He was thankful for the cheers of approval when he took his place in the center of the dance dial, among the other dancers.

Stiles looked up, knowing exactly where Derek was lounging. His eyes locked with Derek’s as he reached his arms above his head to take the starting position. He knew the moment Derek understood what was happening was when he pushed Peter to the side, ignoring whatever his uncle was saying in favor of placing all senses on Stiles.

Stiles followed Talia’s advice, letting his fear of messing up the steps go as he embraced how the music moved. He had observed countless dancers perform the dance, only having performed it a rare number of times in preparation for the performance. He moved his hands, allowing his arm to fluidly tumble around one another, his hips rolling in time with the smooth flow of the music as his feet tapped out the beat of the drums. He didn’t need to have a wolf explain the pleasures and benefits of the dances to him as he felt the music flow through him. He felt as light and free as his fox form, the pressures and constraints of his human skin being forgotten. He could only focus on Derek’s eyes, the way they never moved from his form, constantly watching his every move, only spurring him on.

It didn’t matter that there were hundreds of others in the crowd, or that Stiles was sharing the dance dial with other dancers. His only thoughts were of Derek, of  _my mate_  and  _my Alpha_. His fox preened knowing that Derek wasn’t looking anywhere else, and with Derek’s bite—his scarf, his triskelion—marking his skin, no one would actively dare let their eyes linger on him. It was a private moment, a performance from him to Derek, but a public statement that they belonged to each other.

Stiles pulled the scarf from around his waist, allowing it to freely move behind him as he spun, glancing over his shoulder at Derek as he rolled his shoulders. He draped it across his shoulders, mimicking the way Derek had placed it when he had chosen it as he spun once more to face him again. He saw the sudden rigidness in Derek’s shoulders, the way his eyes flashed crimson as his nostrils flared to intake Stiles’ scent even from his distant seat. Stiles added a slow roll of his hips in response, slightly worried his bottom lip when the wine goblet slipped from Derek’s fingertips. Though the goblet’s clattering was loud enough to cause people to look, Derek never made a move to gather it—he continued to watch Stiles as if nothing happened.

Stiles heart sped up when he realized the fiddle began to slow down, signaling the end of the dance’s invitation. His hips slowed to a stop as the instruments stopped. He reached his arms out, angling them in a physical invitation to Derek. It was now all up to Derek: to accept or reject Stiles' invitation to join him in dance. His breath was hurried, heavy from how exhausted the steps made him. He kept his eyes on Derek, remembering Cora's warning. His heart drummed against the inside of his chest, worried that Derek wasn't going to accept him.

Stiles released a deep breath, relief washing over him as Derek stood. He was thankful Peter had managed to wrap Derek's scarf around his torso while talking to him, certain Derek would have forgotten all about it. Wave after wave of confidence washed over him with every step Derek took to snuff out the space between them, a look of pure want covering his facial features. Every step closer was like the strike of a match, lighting a fire deep inside Stiles—a burn he’d never felt before.

Stiles let Derek make the first gesture to touch him, his hands moving to encircle his torso, pulling his body up against his. He ran his own hands up over Derek’s chest, settling over his shoulders. He was mesmerized by the way Derek gently caressed his skin, hands roaming over his bared back careful enough to avoid smudging the paint decorating his body. He embraced his instincts, leaning forward to capture Derek’s lips in a kiss as they waited for the music to start once more. He released a pitched moan when Derek opened his mouth, completely drowning in the way their scents mixed.

Everything—everyone—faded as the music began once more. Stiles was a little unhappy when Derek pulled away from their kiss, resting their foreheads together. He couldn’t help but smiling the moment Derek’s body moved against him. This was the part of the dance Stiles was looking forward to. The moves were languid, matching the slow, sensual beat of the music. Stiles tried to remember the way his arms were meant to move, a weak attempt to focus on anything but the way Derek’s hips moved with his. He moved with ease, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck as the rolling of their hips intensified.

There was no hiding just how much their bodies were reacting to the dance. They kept eye contact, unable to look away from one another as they freely moved to the music in one another's arms. Stiles took a step back to spin in Derek's arms, pushing his back into Derek's chest. His hand immediately sought out Derek's hair, his fingers using him as an anchor as their hips swayed together. His free hand covered the hand Derek had over Stiles' abdomen. He turned his head to look at Derek, a surprised moan pitching from his throat when he felt just how aroused Derek was with one particular grind of their hips. He ground back into him, kissing Derek to prevent another moan when his own arousal spiked. His body spun to face Derek once more, neither of them caring that their scarves were completely tangled together as they continued their fluid movements.

The dance had passed in a blur, stolen kisses here and there. Neither knew what had happened until the music had ended and their bodies were still entwined. They both hesitated in parting, their hands clasping at one another’s. Stiles was certain they both looked utterly debauched, completely gone with desire for the other. The dance had awakened something in both of them, something that they had begun to scratch the surface of a week ago. They calmly bowed before exiting the dance dial to take their seats once more. Neither chanced speaking to the other, knowing they couldn’t put into words what happened.

Stiles snuck more than one glance at Derek after they were seated. They were both still technically clinging to one another, and he could feel the way Derek would look at him when the others looked away. Every stolen glance was as electrified as the dance itself had been.

It was Stiles who slipped his hand from Derek’s, excusing himself from the festivities. He reassured Lydia that he only had to use the bathroom as he slipped from the table. He hesitated at the door leading into the inner hallways, looking back over his shoulder, smiling when he caught Derek’s gaze. He playfully dipped his chin, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked in what he hoped was an encoded understanding for Derek to follow him. He slipped through the door, moving further into the hallway as he rested against the cool tile of the wall. He tried to calm his breathing, butterflies floating and tumbling in his stomach as he thought about Derek following. He almost gave up hope, worrying his lip as he panicked that he read the signs wrong; perhaps Derek hadn’t felt the same way he had during the dance. His head jerked in surprise when he heard the door open and close, his chest tightening as his lips numbed in anticipation.

Derek leaned his back against the door, closely watching Stiles. His eyes lingered on his parted lips before quickly darting back up to hold his gaze. He hid his smile when Stiles leaned away from the wall, moving further down the hall with a saunter roll of his hips. He held himself back, watching Stiles move the dancing scarf to wrap around his arms and torso, peeking over his shoulder to see if Derek would follow him. The look alone made Derek follow after Stiles.

Derek moved quickly to follow after Stiles. He slipped into the room after Stiles, noticing the room was none other than the council room he met with the advisors in. He glanced at the table and chairs surrounding it before turning his attention to watch Stiles move with ease as he leaned against the table. He smiled when Stiles beckoned him to come closer, following his offer. He stopped in front of Stiles, leaning against him as he leaned on his hands, bracketing Stiles' hips between them. He leaned into the welcoming warmth of Stiles' mouth against his own, deeply kissing him.

They took their time, kissing and pulling at one another, knowing words couldn't explain what they were feeling. The want, the desire, the need.

Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth, reclining on the table as he rolled his hips against Derek's. He pulled at Derek's shirt, wanting to feel his bare body against him. He parted from him, letting Derek remove his shirt.

“I’ve always hated this room,” Derek partially grumbled, moving dow Stiles' body to bite down on one of his nipples, causing a breathy moan to escape him. “Having to sit in this insufferable chair for hours on end, without one glimpse of you.”

The want in Derek’s voice caused Stiles to shiver as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, an attempt to pull him closer. He reached his hands down to cup Derek’s face, pulling him up into another kiss. “Maybe,” he started to speak in between their feverish kisses, knowing they only had so much time before someone came looking. “I can make you think of something else.”

Derek growled out an incoherent response, placing his hands under Stiles to lift him from the table. He moved backwards, his legs hitting the seat of his chair, causing him to sit with Stiles’ legs straddling his thighs.

Stiles pressed his hands against Derek’s chest, moving to slide down his body. He kissed, licked, and nipped his way down his throat and chest, proud of the approving rumble that emitted from Derek’s chest as he settled between his legs. He drew far enough away from pressing into Derek's body to place a slow, tender kiss just below his navel.

“Stiles,” Derek gingerly called his name, his voice heavy with want.

Stiles let his fingers playfully unlaced Derek’s trousers as he innocently looked up at him. He leaned into Derek’s hand when he reached for him, letting his fingertips caress his cheek. His eyes looked down at the opening of Derek’s trousers, eyes focused on the hair that traveled below the fabric, an enticing trail that he was eager to follow.

Stiles forgot about his inexperience, ignoring the fact that he never touched another person, nor ever been touched by another. He had a slight moment of panic which was quickly replaced by lust when he pulled the material far enough away from Derek’s body to unveil his cock.

Stiles moved to lick the tip of his cock, insintctively moving back from Derek's body when his hips jerked up. He was about to apologize when Derek begged him not to stop. He moved to take him in his mouth, keeping his teeth from grazing against Derek's cock. He was spurred on by the wanton sounds escaping Derek's throat,  working his mouth over his hardening erection. He wiggled some, adjusting his trousers as his own erection grew. He moved with Derek when his hips instinctively rolled up into him, pushing his body more into Stiles’ eagerly awaiting mouth.

Stiles let Derek pull him up from his sitting spot between his thighs, dragging his mouth off of Derek with a wet 'pop.' His head was spinning as Derek quickly removed his trousers, both of them barely standing as they leaned against each other.

Derek let his own trousers fall to the ground as his hand enclosed around Stiles' erection. He happily growled at the way Stiles keened in response, leaning into his touch.

"Stiles, do you ..." Derek's voice broke off.

"Gods, yes. Derek, I want you. Inside me," Stiles panted, his brain sparking and misfiring.

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek groaned as he pushed Stiles to turn around, bracing his hands against the table.

Stiles let his head hang, panting heavy when he felt one of Derek's fingers press against his rim. His insides were already wet in anticipation, drenched in slick as his gland worked in overdrive. He moaned Derek's name when he effortlessly inserted a second one.

"Please, gods, Derek, I need you," Stiles whined, bucking his hips back onto Derek's hand.

"I got you," Derek lovingly stated. He kissed Stiles' shoulder blade, his hands roaming over his body as he smudged the paint beneath them, swirling the paint across Stiles' skin. He pushed down on Stiles' shoulder as he used one hand to spread him. He moaned as he slipped into him, reveling in how perfect Stiles felt as he enveloped him.

"Oh, Derek," Stiles moaned, pressing his forehead against the table. His physicians had warned him, after Malia's death, how painful his first time would be, should he mate with a male Alpha. But Derek was perfect, filling him completely as a small stretch gently opened him, only a dull pain accompanying the stretch.

They were both moaning and cursing as they clawed and clung to each other, Derek's thrusts becoming solid and thorough. Stiles reached back and held onto his hips, biting his lip when Derek's pace quickened. He placed his hands against the table, bracing his body upright. He let out a happy noise when Derek's hands settled over his own, fingers entwining with his.

"You okay?" Derek's voice was heavy in Stiles' ear, his thrusts slowing down.

"Derek, it's good. So perfect," Stiles moaned, burying his hand in Derek's hair. "Alpha, my Alpha."

Derek released a pleased growl, quickening his thrusts, pushing a moan out of Stiles. "You're perfect, gods how did I get you," he stated to himself, gently kissing his neck.

“Oh, gods,” Stiles cursed when he felt something else begin to stretch him more. “Derek!” He called out, pulling his hair hard, clawing at him as he kept a strong pace. He pushed back, rolling his hips into every quick snap of Derek’s. He whined loudly when Derek suddenly halted his movements, holding Stiles’ hips in place when he tried to move back against him.

“Hold on,” Derek bit out, his voice strained as he tried to concentrate.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles whimpered, his brain still focused on the fleeting orgasm in the base of his spine, desperately wishing Derek would move once more.

“My knot,” Derek replied. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” he stated as he pressed his forehead into the curve of Stiles’ shoulder blades. “I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s what that is,” Stiles stated, realizing what the stretch he felt before was.

“Give me a few seconds,” Derek let out a shuttering breath. “It will die down.”

“You don’t have to,” Stiles impatiently replied.

“Stiles—”

“I’m not heat drunk, Derek,” Stiles stated. “I want it.”

Derek released another groan, his body reacting to Stiles’ vocalized exclamation of wanting him.

Stiles released a small gasp when he felt the stretch swell. “Derek,” he moaned. “Come on.” He experimentally rolled his hips, earning an approving moan from Derek as his fingers grasped his hips tightly.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, uncertain if Stiles knew what he was asking for.

“Yes,” Stiles whined as he tried moving again. “Come on, Derek. Move. Give me your knot. I was made for it.”

Derek released a breathy, “Fuck,” before he actively started thrusting into Stiles once more.

“Ah, yes,” Stiles happily moaned, tightly holding onto the table as he let Derek alter between actively pounding into him and slowly grinding against him. He reached a hand back, cupping Derek’s ass tightly as he pulled him into him, giving praise of encouragement. “I’m going … Derek, I can’t—”

“Go ahead, Stiles,” Derek breathed against his ear, panting from the exertion. “Come for your Alpha,” he lowly grumbled, gently biting the tip of his ear.

That was all Stiles needed before he was coming hard enough that his vision whited out as he released a loud moan. Claws and fangs descended as his body quivered through his orgasm. His eyes bled orange as Derek continued thrusting into him, letting him ride out his orgasm. He released a small gasp when he felt Derek come, his breath hot against his skin, his own claws digging into the curve of his hips, his knot completely formed as it tied them together. He slightly wiggled his hips, testing the new sensation, resulting in a moan from both of them as Derek’s knot pulled tight at Stiles’ rim.

It was new to be having sex with someone, but it was completely indescribable to feel the endless pulses of Derek’s knot ejaculating _inside_ him. He was used to the way his slick covered his insides, but this was completely different. He could feel a foreign liquid painting him, knowing it was Derek’s cum as his knot tried desperately to guarantee that he was thoroughly bred—that he would take with child. And Stiles liked the feeling.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Derek apologized, heavily breathing against Stiles’ shoulder blade as one hand held his hip still, the other intertwined their fingers against Stiles’ chest.

“’s okay,” Stiles panted, his fingers still buried in Derek’s hair.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Derek asked as he leaned into Stiles, not wanting to move.

Stiles shook his head, leaning back into Derek’s embrace. “Feels good,” he commented. “How long are we going to be stuck like this?” He finally asked, relaxing some.

“Supposedly varies,” Derek stated, tenderly mouthing his shoulder blade in between the series of kisses he pressed into his skin.

Some of his euphoria began to lift as Stiles tried to process what Derek was saying. “Have you never …”

Derek hesitated before he placed a single kiss directly behind Stiles’ ear. “Never.”

Something in Stiles’ chest tightened, a feeling of pride washing through him.

“Does that bother you?” Derek questioned when Stiles didn’t respond.

“No,” Stiles immediately answered. “Definitely doesn’t bother me,” he added as he turned to look at him, stealing a quick kiss. “I like having it to myself.”

Derek closed his eyes, partially groaning. “Please don’t talk about it while I’m actually inside of you.”

“Can it hear us?” Stiles mocked, laughing when Derek gave him an exasperated look.

“No, you may reset everything,” Derek replied, shifting his grip on the table as he steadied them.

“So I shouldn’t rock my hips?” Stiles added.

“You’re a minx,” Derek murmured into the nape of his neck.

“Your advisors are going to hate me even more now,” Stiles replied, looking down at the white stripes staining the table.

“I’m going to hate you when I’m stuck in this room, and all I can think about is this,” Derek stated, flexing his hips once for emphasis, causing both of them to release a moan as a small orgasm pulsed through Derek, the strange yet welcomed feeling of being filled causing Stiles’ fox to preen.

“Do you think we can lay down?” Stiles asked. “I think my knees are going to collapse.”

After a few moments of awkward movement and mutual laughter, they were both laying on the ground between the table and the chair.

“Next time, I want to be facing you,” Stiles tiredly commented. “I want to see your face,” he yawned, pushing back into Derek’s chest.

“Shouldn’t have let me knot you then,” Derek replied, his own voice heavy with sleep. “We could be doing that right now.”

“You’re falling asleep,” Stiles sleepily mumbled.

“So are you,” Derek replied.

Stiles was unclear just how long passed, both of them managing to fall sound asleep on the floor. The once comforting cold tile against his enflamed skin was now freezing, Derek’s warmth being the only thing that kept him from shivering. He sat up some, only to be immediately pulled back against Derek’s chest. He smiled, turning his head to look at his Alpha. He knew Derek’s knot had disappeared when he easily twisted his body without a pull against his rim. He didn’t want to pull away just yet, though. Instead, he observed Derek’s sleeping form.

Derek’s breathing was shallow, his chest slowly moving up and down with every breath. His arms were tightly wrapped around Stiles in a protective manner, even though he was unconscious. His eyelashes were dark against his skin, giving him the peaceful look of a child.

 _A child with a beard_ , Stiles thought with a small smile. He glanced down at the hand Derek had placed over his midsection, making him think about earlier. About begging Derek for his knot. He bit down on his lower lip, his own hand running over his stomach. Everything about his instincts told him he was being bred, that Derek was not only marking him—inside and out—as his mate, but that he was going to fill him with child. And for the first time, Stiles actually hoped the myths were true. Carrying a child—a Hale child, Derek’s child—was the most exciting, satisfying thing he could think of.

Stiles waited a while before he finally decided to ask Derek the question that was plaguing him earlier. “Derek?” He called his name to check if he was awake.

“Stiles,” Derek’s chest vibrated against Stiles’ side, making him press into Derek even more.

“May I ask you a question?” Stiles asked, entwining his fingers with Derek’s just over his belly. He felt Derek nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck even more.

“Always,” Derek quietly replied, his breath hot against Stiles’ skin.

“Do you think …” Stiles hesitated, unsure how Derek felt about the whole prospect. “Do you think the myths are true about Omegas?”

“Which ones?” Derek peacefully questioned, satisfied with remaining glued to Stiles’ side.

“That we evolved to not only satisfy Alphas, but to … to help carry the next generation,” Stiles worded it the way many of the myths had. He felt his stomach flip when Derek didn’t make a move to demonstrate that he even heard Stiles.

“Like male Omegas being able to carry children?” Derek finally asked.

“Um, yes,” Stiles replied, looking down at the way his fingers were clutching at Derek’s, their hands resting just over his navel.

“I told you, I don’t care about offspring,” Derek seriously stated, opening his eyes for the first time.

“I know … I just,” Stiles avoided looking at Derek as he raised his head to evaluate Stiles. “I was just thinking about the possibilities. Like, what if down the road, surprise, I’m with child?”

Derek remained silent as he inspected Stiles’ features, watching him carefully. “Do you … want a child?”

Stiles looked up at Derek for the first time, positive he heard the sound of hope in Derek’s voice. He wiggled a hand between them, gently pushing against Derek’s abdomen as he separated them. He released a small moan, the feeling of being stretched still achingly present, part of him wanting nothing more than for Derek to knot him again. He apologized when Derek released a low, guttural grimace at the loss. He turned his body to completely face Derek, nestling himself in his arms as he placed his hands on his chest.

“During the war, I was afraid to be mated to another male, afraid that the myths were true, and I’d eventually conceive,” Stiles began, looking down at his mark on Derek’s shoulder, his fingers drifting from his chest to caress the scarred skin. “I didn’t want to bring a child into a world where it wouldn’t be safe. Like you had said to the fox council, even unborn pups weren’t safe.”

Derek moved his hand to gently play with a few strands of Stiles’ hair, avoiding the unruly headpiece as it hung from his head. He was hanging onto Stiles’ words, carefully listening to him as he evaluated his response.

“And there was no one I cared enough about to want that with. There was no one I thought of carrying pups for,” Stiles quietly admitted. He finally looked up at Derek. “But if I can … then I want nothing more than to do that for you. I  _want_  to carry your pups. I want to give you—us—children.”

Derek leaned in, capturing Stiles’ lips, pulling him into his embrace even tighter. He placed a series of kisses over his lips, across his face, as he spoke. “I don’t care about offspring,” he restated from earlier. “But any child you bore, I would be overjoyed with. I would love any child you conceived—fox or wolf.”

“Even Omega?” Stiles asked as he clung to Derek, his senses almost completely lost under a shower of Derek’s kisses.

“Especially an Omega,” Derek replied.

It was all perfect until the sound of distant footsteps caused them to realized that more than enough time passed for someone, particularly a family member, to grow curious as to where they went. Derek slightly cursed, sitting up to grab their discarded trousers. He handed Stiles’ to him before quickly slipping into his own. He helped Stiles stand as soon as he managed to pull on his own, his normally nimble fingers still fumbling with the laces as the footsteps drew closer. Derek ignored pulling on his shirt for fixing Stiles’ headpiece, abandoning it once it looked to be in place before grabbing the scarf to fix around Stiles’ waist.

Stiles reached out for Derek’s shirt, bunching the material before he slipped it over Derek’s head. Derek allowed his hands to abandon their work in making Stiles presentable looking in order to pull his shirt the rest of the way on. Regardless of their efforts, it was pointless in the end. They had smudged a majority of the painted symbols across Stiles’ body, a portion of the paint now decorating Derek’s body but was hidden by his shirt.

They didn’t bother to look embarrassed when a knock sounded on the door. Derek placed one last kiss on Stiles’ lips as the door opened. Stiles wrapped his hand in Derek’s before glancing over at the door. He didn’t try to hide his smile when he noticed it was Kate, his fox preening at knowing she would be able to tell what they had done.

“Pardon me, your highnesses,” Kate started, giving a rigid bow of her head. “But Alpha Talia is looking for you.”

“Thank you,” Derek replied. He made his way, with Stiles in tow, passed Kate and into the hallway.

They made their way back towards the door that led to the courtyard. Stiles glanced behind him, not missing the glare Kate gave him as she crossed her arms over her chest. He turned his attention back to Derek, wrapping his arms around one of Derek’s as he rested his head on his shoulder. And if he held onto Derek a little tighter than he meant to, Derek didn’t make a sound of protest, knowing that Kate had upset him and his fox. Stiles, however, refused to let Kate ruin his happiness. He had Derek, and that was all that mattered to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a happy chapter ending, with much conversation and sexy times. But, unfortunately, that is all coming to an end in the next chapter. The next chapter is quite possibly the toughest chapter I've had to write in terms of cutting, adding, and changing dialogue, along with characters and their reactions/allegiances. The chapter will dive into some characters and their backgrounds as well as flashbacks.
> 
> There is a happy ending to be had here, so fear not. As always, thank you for your love and support, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I do.


	8. Mine & Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' heat hits and there is detailed sexy times. The chunks of writing that are italicized are flashbacks. Other than that, enjoy~

Stiles awoke in Derek’s bed, his blood pounding in his ears as a small headache began to form. He noticed he was in bed alone, slowly pushing himself up onto his arms. He let out a pained gasp as a sharp pain stabbed through his abdomen. He looked down at his torso, seeing bandages wrapped around him. He furrowed his eyebrows, not remembering much after he and Derek had sex. He recalled Kate knocking on the door, returning to the party with Derek, blushing when Peter commented on the state of the paint on both their skin, laughing with Lydia when she congratulated him.

“You’re awake,” Kira’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Kira?” Stiles looked up, noticing her rising from one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.

“We were all worried you might take a long time to heal,” Kira explained as she approached the bed.

“What … What happened?” Stiles asked as he rested back into the bed.

“You don’t remember?” Kira paled as she spoke.

Stiles’ stomach sunk, looking around the room for a sign that Derek had been there. “Kira, is Derek … where is he?” He panicked.

“Derek’s fine,” Kira immediately replied, sitting on the edge of the bed as she took his hand in hers. “He was here all day yesterday and last night, but he had to leave to make an announcement.”

“What happened?” Stiles questioned, uncertain if he wanted to know.

“There was an attack at the festival,” Kira started. “The guards were more relaxed than they should have been. We found Chris unconscious. He had minor wolfsbane poisoning from a fox bite.”

“A fox bite?”

“It was similar to the wolf bite you suffered. Except this time it was a crazed Alpha fox, with wolfsbane laced on its teeth.”

“Will he live?” Stiles hopefully asked.

“He will, but he still hasn’t woken up. Allison has been by his side ever since it happened,” Kira stated, looking as if she was holding something back. “Peter and Kate are watching over Lydia. Derek assigned me to watch over you, with Erica and Boyd manning the door. Scott and more than half of the fox guards are heading here with your father. They want to aid in the man hunt for the assassin.”

Stiles nodded.

“You should get some more rest,” Kira stated, helping to ease him into the bed, tucking the blankets around him. “I’ll send a messenger to tell Derek you woke up.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

_Everything happened faster than Stiles thought possible._

_A strong, feminine hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him from his seat and away from Derek. He turned to look at the hand, noticing it belonged to none other than Talia. He looked up at her face, watching the way she was staring off in the distance, her steps becoming quicker. He stumbled as he tried to keep up with her pace, quickly glancing back at Derek._

_Derek noticed the second Talia had pulled Stiles away from him. He looked confused, excusing himself from Lydia’s conversation with a few other diplomats. He tapped Peter on the shoulder, nodding towards Talia and Stiles._

_Peter followed Derek’s eyesight, furrowing his eyebrows when he realized something was happening. He gave Derek a reassuring hand on the shoulder before slipping off to the side, disappearing in the crowd as he moved to investigate._

_Derek grew impatient, the distance from Stiles becoming an unbearable scratch under his skin. Something was happening, and he wasn’t going to sit back and let it happen. Peter was only gone a few seconds before Derek was moving after Talia and Stiles._

_“Talia,” Stiles called after her. “What’s wro—” An earthshattering scream cut him off—a scream identical to the one a week ago—exactly as a sharp pain punched through his stomach, causing him to cry out. His lungs burned, a piercing pain radiated through his body in waves. His legs wobbled when he looked down to catch sight of a single, silver tipped arrow sticking out of his stomach._

_Talia’s body suddenly collapsed, her grip on Stiles pulling him down with her. Peter appeared out of nowhere, catching Talia before she fell to the ground. A pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around Stiles. He instantly knew it was Derek._

_“I have your mother! GO!” Peter yelled over the screaming of the crowd as he picked Talia up in his arms. “Get Stiles inside to Deaton!”_

_Stiles cried out in pain when Derek easily picked him up, quickly moving to exit the courtyard. He couldn’t be positive, but he thought he saw the arrow nick Talia, and only one thing would explain her collapse. “Wolfsbane,” he winced as he spoke, an attempt to warn Derek as he tightly grasped Derek’s shirt. He felt the burn of the poison, a small comfort to know that even if the arrow failed, it would not kill him._

_“Don’t talk,” Derek’s voice wavered with uncertainty and fear._

_“Derek, it’s a wolfsbane tip,” Stiles gasped, trying to suck in a calming breath as the arrow moved, causing searing pain to stab through his torso._

_“Deaton!” Derek yelled down the hallway as guards scurried, both to find the healer and apprehend the assassin. “Someone find Deaton!” He knelt down, settling Stiles against him as best he could as he looked around for a sign of Deaton._

_Stiles pulled on Derek’s shirt to gain his attention. “Is … is—”_

_“Don’t talk,” Derek partially commanded, looking down at Stiles._

_“I can’t … breathe,” Stiles winced, closing his eyes. “Derek, I can’t—”_

_“Stay with me,” Derek stated, freeing one of his hands to cup Stiles’ cheek, drawing his pain away as best he could. “Stiles, I need you to stay with me.”_

_Derek didn’t look away from Stiles as Deaton appeared by them, kneeling to inspect Stiles. “Don’t close your eyes, stay with me,” he repeated, holding onto Stiles tightly. His face was significantly paler than his normally tan complexion as he continued to look down at Stiles._

_“It’s a wolfsbane arrow,” Deaton stated aloud to no one in particular. “We have to pull it out the rest of the way,” he grimly concluded._

_Stiles released a painful gasp the minute Deaton’s fingers grazed the arrow, his fingers tightening as pistons into Derek’s arm and chest._

_Derek turned his attention from Stiles for the first time, flashing his eyes and snapping his fangs at Deaton on pure instinct as he released a growl. His mate was hurt—intentionally hurt by some unknown force—and Derek wanted blood and vengeance._

_“Derek, I can’t help him if you work against me,” Deaton reasoned. “Where is Kira?” He questioned, scanning the guards as he looked for the young fox._

_As if on cue, Kira came running down the hall, her samurai sword drawn as she checked in with the other guards. She hurried over to Stiles and Derek when she saw them. “They couldn’t find the archer,” she quickly stated, kneeling next to Deaton._

_“It’s a wolfsbane arrow,” Deaton started. “I don’t want anyone chancing—”_

_“I can handle it,” Kira immediately stated, sheathing her sword before looking down at Stiles. “Just tell me what to do.” She obediently listened as Deaton explained that she had to pull the arrow from the tip, forcing the feathered end the rest of the way out of Stiles’ body._

_Stiles suppressed a whimper when Kira broke off a significant part of the arrow that was protruding from his back, making the amount of arrow she had to pull out smaller. He released a pained scream when Kira began to pull the arrow out of him. A loud roar emitted from beside him, instantly knowing it was Derek. He whimpered when he felt Derek being pulled away from him._

_“Get Derek out of here!” Deaton yelled at whoever was brave enough to grab him._

_“Boyd!” Peter’s voice yelled for the guard as he struggled with Derek._

_Stiles turned his head, his arm still reaching out for Derek as he saw a partially shifted Derek fighting against both Peter and Boyd. The next pull of the arrow caused him to pass out from the pain._

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles tossed and turned, abruptly waking from his dream. _Not dream_ , he thought, knowing that it was what happened last night. Someone shot him with an arrow, Kira had pulled it the rest of the way out, and now he was healing from it. He turned his head to look around the room. He spotted a figure by the fire, their form barely visible in the flame’s light.

Stiles turned his head to the side as he let his eyes glow orange, adjusting his vision to the dark. He instantly knew it was Derek before his eyes adjusted all the way. He realized his body was hunched as he leaned his elbows against his knees, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were gently shaking, a jagged rhythm that Stiles knew all too well from his own experiences. Derek was crying.

“Derek,” Stiles gently called his name, wanting to pull him out of his thoughts.

Derek’s body immediately stopped shaking, his head lifting from the safety of his hands. He sniffled a little, wiping his sleeve over his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” his voice was hoarse, rough from hours of restless nights and stolen, guilt-riddled moments.

“You didn’t,” Stiles softly replied.

“You should be resting,” Derek commented as he stood, keeping his body turned from Stiles.

“Derek, what’s wrong?” Stiles asked, not knowing how else to word his concern.

Derek released a small, sad laugh as he rubbed his hands over his face. “So much, Stiles. So much,” he weakly admitted.

“What happened in the courtyard,” Stiles began, uncertain if he should even try addressing the event. “It wasn’t your fault. You got to me as soon as you could—”

“My mother’s dead,” Derek stated in an emotionless tone.

Stiles’ eyes widened, the full force of Derek’s words hitting him all at once. “She … She was trying to pull me out of the way,” he weakly explained.

“Well, it didn’t matter,” Derek stated.

Stiles flinched at the bitterness in Derek’s tone, and for a short moment, Stiles almost thought it was directed at him.

“You were still injured and she died,” Derek added, putting Stiles’ racing thoughts to rest.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles stated. “If she hadn’t pulled me … If she had left me—”

“Peter said that if she had left you where you were, the arrow probably would have gone through your throat, possibly your head. The arrow would have still hit her,” Derek coldly replied, his body still turned from Stiles.

Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening to his body, but he started to feel the same way he had after their fight in the fox territory, before he was attacked by the wolf. His stomach swooped and churned, feeling as if someone was quickly unraveling it despite his protests. His eyes burned hot with tears, his lip quivering as a sob worked its way up through his chest. He felt worthless, almost used when he thought about the moment they had stolen that night. Where Derek was tender and loving that night, he was cold and cut off this night. And Stiles didn’t blame him for it.

“Do you really hate me that much?” Stiles suddenly chocked out. “That you accepted my offer—my feelings, my _body_ —and then turn from me the minute something like this happens? I didn’t know what she was doing, Derek. If I could, I would have gladly taken that arrow in my throat—or my head—if it meant you still had your mother! You act as if I don’t know what it feels like to lose a parent, but I do! Yes, I am lucky enough to still have one, but I am not ignorant of your pain. Of Mal’s and Alex’s—Cora’s.” He tried to suppress the whine his fox was emitting—a plea that his Alpha, his mate, comfort him. But Stiles’ pride stung too much to ask Derek for that.

When Derek remained silent and unmoving, Stiles snapped. He picked up the book he had been reading—most nights spent reading it to Derek as he fell sleep with Stiles wrapped tightly in his arms—from the nightstand and hurled it at him. He was smugly happy when it hit Derek directly in the back of the head.

Derek’s head snapped to look at him, his eyes were actually glowing red. It was the first time Derek flashed his eyes red at Stiles, but Stiles didn’t flinch.

“Get out,” Stiles stated, his voice raw and tender.

Derek didn’t make an attempt to move or argue with him, the crimson still burning brightly in his eyes, even as his features softened.

“Get out,” Stiles repeated, this time leaning to grab something else, something that was heavier that he thought, to throw at Derek. He winced as the unexpected weight caused his arm to drop, tearing at his wound. He clutched his side as he released a soft curse.

Derek moved from his spot to come closer to Stiles the moment he heard his painful sigh.

“Don’t!” Stiles exclaimed, dropping the item— _a candle labra, of course_ —as he clutched his side. “You don’t get to act like _that_ and then suddenly care.”

“For the love of the gods,” Derek grumbled. “I’m furious at myself, Stiles, not you!” He angrily admitted before running his hands through his hair, turning his back on Stiles once more. “I couldn’t …”

Stiles hesitated, watching the muscles in his back tense. “Don’t shut me out, Derek,” he finally stated. “I’m your mate. You’re supposed to be able to share with me the burdens that you can’t with other.”

Derek released a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I didn’t even look at her,” he finally admitted. “I saw her crumple beside you; saw Peter gather her up in his arms. And even when you told me it was a wolfsbane arrow, I didn’t even think about her. My mother was dying, and I couldn’t spare her a thought.” He paused, running a hand over his neck, releasing a bitter laugh. “It wasn’t until Deaton had Peter and Boyd tear me away from you that I even realized what had happened. In the time I spent trying to _attack_ those helping you, my mother died.”

“Derek, that’s not your fault,” Stiles stated.

Derek didn’t try to hide his scoff.

“Would you stop it,” Stiles pleaded. He threw his blankets to the side, shuffling until he could slip out of the bed. He wobbled a little as he moved towards Derek. He firmly placed his hands on Derek’s shoulders, holding him tightly as he pressed his body into his. He placed a kiss on his shoulder blade, accepting the small shiver that ran through Derek’s body from the contact.

“I love you,” Stiles whispered against his shirt, closing his eyes. His heart was pounding against his chest, pained by the void he felt forming between them.

Derek buried his face in his hands once more, muffling the small noises that worked their way up through his chest. He clamped down on his internal sobs, pressing the pain down, like he did so many timed before. “I can’t—I can’t do this, Stiles,” he admitted in a hurry. “I can’t lead them—I’m not a leader—I can’t—”

“Derek,” Stiles moved to stand in front of him, pulling his hands from his face. “Just stop being hard on yourself for a second, and breathe,” he instructed. He abandoned his hold on Derek’s arms, cupping his face in his hands. “Breathe with me,” he calmly stated. “I’m not expecting anything from you, you know that, right?”

Derek kept his eyes closed, his breathing slowing down thanks to the calming warmth of Stiles’ hands cupping his face. “I don’t deserve to be your mate,” Derek feebly admitted. “The stress of ruling has been on my shoulders for less than two days, and I’m already crumbling.”

“You’re not crumbling,” Stiles argued. “You’re overwhelmed with stress. Your advisors are pulling you back and forth with minor matters that could be dealt with by others, while demanding you deal with pressing matters, even in the light of losing your mother.” He carefully studied Derek’s features before stating, “Have Peter help you. He assisted your mother near the end of her rule, he’ll help you.”

“Peter has enough—”

“You’re his family too, Derek,” Stiles stated. “Stop hiding from us. You don’t have to run from facing what happened. Instead, let us help you—let us face the grief together.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, pulling him in close while avoiding harming his wound. He breathed in Stiles’ comforting scent as he pressed his face into the crook of his neck.

“You’re more of a leader than I am,” Derek commented.

“I’ve had a pack of Alphas breathing down my neck, hoping for twenty years that I’d fail them,” Stiles joked, his hands tightly clutching the material of his shirt.

“But you didn’t.”

“I stopped caring about them, and started caring about the people,” Stiles explained. “But right now, I’m growing a little dizzy,” he suddenly stated, the exertion and powerfully sexual pull he was feeling was confusing all his senses.

Derek effortlessly picked Stiles up immediately, bringing him back to the bed.

“I won’t break,” Stiles commented.

“If the past month has proven anything, you’re indestructible,” Derek replied as he set Stiles down onto the bed.

Stiles smiled, grasping Derek’s forearm as he pulled him down onto the bed with him. He shifted his body to the side, allowing Derek enough room to rest beside him.

Derek kept his hands on Stiles’ side, one hand moving to caress his hip as he moved to kiss him. He pulled Stiles against him, avoiding touching his wound.

Stiles turned his body into Derek’s, leaning into his warmth. He moved to kiss him, a small comfort for what had passed. The kiss was slow and delicate as if they were teetering on the edge of something they both were afraid of falling over. He pulled back, pulling Derek with him as he rested on his back. He guided Derek to use his chest as a pillow, an action Stiles had done countless of times with Derek whenever they fell asleep. He ran his fingertips through Derek’s hair, comforting him as best he could, thankful to know he was helping when Derek pressed into his touch.

“Sleep now, and we’ll talk in the morning,” Stiles instructed him, closing his eyes as he listened to the sound of Derek’s steady breathing.

~0~0~0~0~0~

It had taken some convincing, but Derek took Stiles’ advice and asked Peter for help.

Peter had been quiet since Talia’s passing, keeping to himself as he remained in his rooms. He ignored the messengers everyone sent, relaying their condolences or asking if he was taking care of himself. He remained in a near catatonic state as he remained glued to his balcony.

Stiles—after he healed enough to move around without pain or difficulty—was the one that approached Peter. He ignored the guards’ warning that Peter was in a foul mood, giving them a small smile before slipping into the room. He frowned when he saw the broken furniture scattered across the floor, wrinkling his nose at the old food Peter had left to spoil. _He must have scared off the servants_.

Stiles remained silent as he approached the balcony. He peered through the curtains, catching sight of Peter’s bent leg protruding from his alcove hiding spot.

“Did you know my sister broke my arm when we were little?” Peter questioned Stiles, not offering him a greeting as he drank from the bottle of wine he was nursing in his hand.

“I didn’t,” Stiles replied, moving to lean over the balcony’s railing, keeping his eyes fixed on the view opposed to Peter.

“We were fighting over who got to use our father’s bow,” Peter explained. “By all rights, Talia had proper claim over it, considering she was the eldest Alpha born to our parents. But that was Talia for you. Always letting me, a lowly Beta, argue against her.”

“She broke your arm,” Stiles stated.

“Because I started to wrestle her for it, despite her logical protests,” Peter stated, shifting his weight. “She could have growled me into submission—flashed her eyes and force me to cower. But she didn’t. Talia never did that to me.”

Stiles could hear the sorrow in Peter’s voice, knowing he was deeply wrapped in his own hatred. He jumped when he heard the sound of glass shattering behind him. He turned to discover that Peter was standing, heavily panting as he glared at the wall where he had thrown the bottle of wine.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Peter questioned, not looking at him.

“I want you to help Derek,” Stiles answered.

Peter scoffed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“You helped Talia, you can help Derek,” Stiles pressed on. “I know you don’t want to see this all fail.”

“It already has,” Peter bitterly stated.

“Not if we keep going,” Stiles argued in earnest. “Talia told me that the way we keep going—the way we win, is to look at the bigger picture. We have to think of our family and friends. If we want them to live in a world where this violence is a distant memory—nothing more than a handful of stories told by the fire—then we have to keep fighting for it. We have to persevere in the face of adversity in order to not let it all fall into chaos.”

Peter was silent for a few moments before he released a small, heartfelt laugh.

Stiles blinked a few times, shocked that Peter was laughing.

“You sound just like her,” Peter finally stated, his smile sad yet fond at the comparison.

“You knew her better than anyone,” Stiles stated. “She’d want you to help her son—her pack, to succeed.”

Peter nodded, sighing in defeat as he looked at Stiles. “You win, little Omega prince. You win.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

“You seem to be healing nicely,” John stated as he walked beside Stiles, allowing his son to lean on him as much as necessary.

“I was lucky it was wolfsbane,” Stiles stated, trying his best to ignore his limp.

“Lucky,” John repeated the word, slightly frowning.

“Luckier than most,” Stiles offered.

“Maybe you should come back home for a while,” John finally stated.

“Dad,” Stiles started, stopping their steps. “I can’t—”

“Bringing you out of harm’s way isn’t abandoning anyone, Stiles,” John argued.

“I know you’re worried,” Stiles stated. “But a change in location isn’t going to protect me from this enemy. They have proven that they’re determined.”

“The faster we find them, the more at ease I’ll be,” John replied.

“We all will be,” Stiles assured him. “Derek’s handling everything here. Which, I am sure, is greatly disappointing to the fox council.”

“Somewhat,” John confided in his son. “They like to blame Derek for your injuries. I think it just annoys them that you have been spending a great amount of time here, opposed to home.”

Stiles hesitated, thinking about the past months. He had all but moved across the land and into the Hale territory—something he never thought possible, even in his wildest dreams. He liked staying with the Hales, receiving an overwhelming sense of welcome whenever he was with them.

“This is as much my home now as the fox castle is Derek’s,” Stiles finally replied. “And with Talia’s passing, I fear I am even more likely to remain.”

John nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “I told them that that was how you felt.”

“It is,” Stiles affirmed.

“I’m glad,” John stated. “Despite everything, you seem happy.”

“I am,” Stiles gave his father a smile of his own.

His father remained with him, both of them idly carrying on conversation as they traded updates here and there. It wasn’t until Scott came to inform his father that Derek asked for him to be there for the meeting with his advisors, wishing to have his thoughts and opinions on how to proceed.

“He also asked if you would want to join them,” Scott stated as he turned to Stiles.

“I wanted to visit the twins, actually,” Stiles replied, releasing his hold on his father as he independently stood.

“Are you sure you’re well enough?” John questioned.

“Erica is with them,” Stiles explained. “Besides, I got this big guy,” he gestured towards Boyd as he spoke. Boyd continued to prove himself as a master of silence, maintaining a specific distance from Stiles and his father as they walked. Stiles only ever knew Boyd was there when he would turn and look at him. “Besides, their room is just around the corner.”

“Very well,” John stated, somewhat hesitate to let his son out of his sight as he hugged him.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Stiles stated, embracing his father.

~0~0~0~0~0~

_“I’ve got you,” Peter stated as he moved through the crowd, headed towards the doors Derek entered moments ago with Stiles._

_“Peter, stop,” Talia’s voice weakly protested his movements._

_“We’re almost there, hang on,” Peter ignored her as he continued to move._

_“Peter, set me down,” Talia calmly stated, her hand firmly cupping his shoulder. “Please.”_

_Peter hesitated before moving off to the side of the panicking crowd, kneeling with Talia in his arms. “I just have to get you inside, then everything will be okay.”_

_“Peter,” Talia softly called his name. She reached a hand up, gently cupping his face. “We both know that’s not true.” She closed her eyes, wincing as the poison pulsed through her veins._

_“Talia, don’t,” Peter weakly begged, hanging his head. “Don’t leave me—not you too,” his voice broke as he spoke, pushing his cheek into the comfort of his sister’s palm._

_“Is Stiles okay?” Talia asked, an attempt to change the subject and put Peter at ease._

_“Derek has him,” Peter replied, opening his eyes once more to look down at her._

_“I need you to promise me something,” Talia started. “Mal and Alex—”_

_“I’ll keep taking care of them like before. If you’ll just let me save you,” Peter started to bargain._

_Talia released a small, sad laugh that turned quickly into a cough as she gasped for more air. “We both know this is it, baby brother,” her fingertips gently brushed a few strands of Peter’s hair back as she spoke._

_It was a small, maternal gesture that Talia once did when they both lost their parents, when she became the head Alpha. Peter had tried to act unaffected, snapping and growling at anyone who addressed him until Talia confronted him. They fought, resulting in Talia swiftly pinning him to the ground before calming him. Instead of making him bare his neck to her, she embraced him, cradling him against her as they grieved their losses, Peter’s head in her lap as he clung to her._

_“They’re all going to need you,” Talia stated. “Cora, Alex and Mal. Stiles and Isaac. And especially Derek. Don’t let him blame himself.” She released a pained sighed. “The family is yours to protect now, Peter, even from itself.”_

_“I can’t, Talia,” Peter shook his head. “I’m not an Alpha, I never was an Alpha.”_

_“You may not have been born an Alpha, but you always were one,” Talia softly stated._

_“I can’t even take away your pain,” Peter bitterly stated._

_“It doesn’t hurt,” Talia answered, tilting Peter’s head to face her. “I’m proud of you, baby brother. I’ve always been proud of you.”_

_Peter pulled her closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could, thinking that he could somehow shield her from the poison. A few tears slid from his eyes as he tightly closed them._

_“I love you,” Talia softly stated._

_“I love you, too, big sis,” Peter replied, his lips tightly pressed against Talia’s temple as he spoke. He felt her body relax, her breathing become shallow as her heartbeat disappeared. “Talia?” He called her name, pulling back to look at her. Her eyes were closed as he gently shook her, a childish attempt to wake her up. He remembered doing the same thing to their sister Margaret, months pregnant with child not saving her from a killer’s blade. It was Talia that had pulled him away from her, promising him that things would change. But nothing had changed; proven time and again every time they lost someone, every time someone was attacked. He let his grief fall over him, ducking his head down as he rocked Talia’s body back and forth in his lap. He didn’t care who heard as he threw his head back, releasing a forlorn roar._

_It was more than just a roar though. It was more than just a vow to his family—to Talia. It was a promise to the assassin: vengeance would come._

~0~0~0~0~0~

“I don’t know what to do,” Derek stated, head in his hands as he waited for Peter’s advice.

“And you expect me to know?” Peter questioned as he moved from his spot against the wall, walking over to the wine.

“Mother always knew what to do,” Derek commented.

“And she’s gone,” Peter replied. “Your mother knew a day would come when you would have to take her place,” he explained, pouring a goblet of wine for himself. “She built a foundation for you to start working on, from the ground up.”

“How can I be expected to lead when I can’t even protect my mate?” Derek questioned.

“Stiles isn’t the one looking down on you, Derek,” Peter replied. “You keep arguing that you’re unfit, but that boy looks at you like you’re one of the gods.”

“His father wants to take him home,” Derek admitted. “Perhaps I should tell him to.”

“Sure, if you want to make him an easy target,” Peter stated in mock compliance. “Do you really think he would have lived that night of the run if you weren’t there? Do you think he would have willed himself to heal as fast as he has if you were not by his side these past few days?” He studied Derek’s features before continuing. “Do you want him to go?”

“No,” Derek immediately replied. “I never thought I’d feel this way,” he weakly admitted. “He’s always in my mind. I can’t find a moment’s rest from thinking of him. I only want his safety, even if that means separating us.”

“If you send him away, you’ll be signing his death certificate,” Peter honestly replied. “You both are stronger together.” He sighed, moving to take the chair next to Derek as they waited for the advisors to arrive. “Even someone as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple, yet undeniable power, of love,” he began, turning his head to the side to gaze out the window. “You’ve tried to be dead inside for a long time, Derek. Trust me when I say it’s not worth it. Don’t let fear hold you from your mate now.”

“Stiles was right,” Derek stated. He looked at Peter when he felt his uncle’s eyes turn towards him. “You’re better council than I gave you credit for.”

Peter smiled his typically sly smile into his goblet. “Playing the careless fool to hide from responsibility has worked for me.”

“You don’t have an alternative agenda for usurping the power for yourself?” Derek questioned.

“In another lifetime, nephew. In another lifetime,” Peter wearily concluded as the first of the advisors entered the room.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles greeted the guards stationed outside of the twins’ room. He easily slipped inside the door, immediately catching sight of the twins in their shifted wolf forms, curled up on the bed with a blond wolf— _Erica_ —in between them. The pups were sleeping, small whines and sighs escaping them as they rolled from side to side.

“Erica,” Boyd confirmed Stiles’ thoughts as the blond wolf lifted her head and eyed them.

Erica gently pushed the pups with her muzzle, stirring them from their nap. They partially whimpered, eyes blinking open to look up at her in question. She gestured towards the door.

Both of the pups barked when they saw Stiles, one of them releasing a small howl. They both clambered off the bed, running for Stiles.

Stiles knelt beside them, allowing them to jump into his arms. He let them press their faces into his neck, taking comfort in his scent. They whined before pulling and pushing Stiles towards the bed.

Erica hopped off of the bed, heading behind the changing screen for privacy. She emerged with a silk robe wrapped around her. “They don’t want to change back. It’s been hard for them to manage without Talia.”

Alex released a melancholy howl at the mention of his mother’s name. Mal buried his head in Stiles’ leg.

Stiles nodded, remembering how he remained shifted after his mother died. “I’d like to stay with them, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Erica replied.

“I’ll inform Derek,” Boyd stated, briefly nodding before exiting.

Stiles moved to recline on the bed, letting Mal and Alex climb over him, both of them electing to rest by his sides in order to lay their head on his chest. He gently combed his fingers through their fur, putting them at ease.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Stiles started. “I’ll shift and cuddle with you, if you promise to try and shift back for dinner.”

Alex and Mal looked at one another before looking at Stiles. They both nodded, determining that it couldn’t hurt to try.

Stiles must have soundly fallen asleep, because he was suddenly being woken by familiar, comforting fingers carding through his fur. _Mate_. He opened his eyes to see Derek partially sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You missed dinner,” Derek stated.

Stiles looked down at the two fluff balls pressed tightly into his stomach. Mal and Alex had their limbs tangled, one’s paws resting on the other’s back while the other had their heads nuzzled together. They were sound asleep, no whimpers or sad sighs being emitted.

“I’ll leave you with them,” Derek replied, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ head. He moved to stand, halted by Stiles’ teeth snatching the arm of his shirt. He let Stiles pull him back down to the bed, continually gazing at him. He nodded in understanding, easily shedding his clothes before shifting.

Stiles turned to place his head back on the bed, wrapping his body around the twins as best he could. He partially turned his head to look at Derek as he settled behind him.

Derek rested his head over Stiles, hooking his muzzle over Stiles’ shoulder. He looked at Stiles, watching him closely.

Stiles felt warmer than he had before—more at ease and comforted by Derek’s present. He felt safe having his mate curl around him, two pups nestled against him for their own comfort. He liked the way Derek’s black fur clashed and overlapped with his own orange fur. He liked feeling like a family. He gently licked at Derek’s muzzle, joyful when Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck.

They leaned against each other, alternating between gently nipping and nuzzling one another. They eventually fell asleep, feeling completely safe and content in each other’s embrace as they listened to the small heartbeats of the twins.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The following days consisted of struggles for everyone. The twins reluctantly reclaimed their human forms, at least for meals. Peter managed to stop his recluse ways, long enough to attend the council meetings with Derek and his advisors. Allison stayed by her father’s side, grateful when Lydia and Stiles would visit her. Derek elected Scott to oversee the guard until Chris recovered, leading the hunt for the assassin.

But this day was different than the others.

Stiles awoke to his mind on fire, a feeling of restlessness falling over him and crawling under his skin like ants. He pressed his body into the warm one enveloping him, clinging to him as much as using him as a pillow. He embraced the feeling, loving how perfect Derek was as a blanket. He twirled his hair between his fingers, being as comforting as he could be. He placed soft kisses into Derek’s hair before running his hands down his back. Even after his wound healed, Derek was hesitant to push any degree of intimacy.

Stiles tried to convince Derek that they both needed the intimacy, grasping onto him tightly as they moved against one another, hands roaming the other’s body. He needed it as much as he knew Derek did. He pushed him down into the bed, shimmying his body over his. He left kisses and hickeys on his skin as he traveled down Derek’s chest and abdomen. He ran his fingers through the tuft of hair decorating his chest, digging his fingernails into his skin.

Derek curled his fingers into Stiles’ hair, watching him move through heavy eyelids as sleep still hung over him. He noticed the flicker of orange flashing through Stiles’ irises as he looked up at him through his eyelashes. It was the first indicator that something had changed. Derek immediately noticed the spiked change in Stiles’ scent, more than arousal and desire, suddenly understanding what was happening.

“Stiles, stop,” Derek stated as he sat up, resting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders.

Stiles released a small whine that shot straight down to Derek’s cock, a whine that begged his mate for contact—his Alpha to be claimed.

“I can’t think,” Stiles whimpered, suddenly realizing that something was wrong. His eyes widened when he felt the way his body reacted to Derek’s touch, to the fact that his Alpha was relaxed in the bed under him. “My heat,” he heavily panted.

“Try to calm yourself,” Derek offered, his hands still warm and heavy against Stiles’ enflamed skin.

“I … It’s never been like this,” Stiles suddenly admitted when his body started to ache. “Derek, I just—I just need you,” he feebly cried, climbing his way over Derek.

“Stiles,” Derek tried to argue with him, though his hands moved to settle on Stiles’ hips as his own senses were overwhelmed by _Omega_ and _mate_ and _Stiles_.

Stiles hesitated, his legs partially straddling Derek’s as the only thing between them were their trousers—and Stiles never hated and loved clothing so much before. He nodded in understanding. “If you … if you don’t want to, you should probably leave.” He didn’t bother suppressing the sob his fox made at the thought of Derek leaving him like this. “I don’t want to keep clambering over you,” he tried to explain, his entire body trembling as he attempted to move away from Derek. He released a moan when Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ hips, preventing him from moving further away. He forced himself to look up at Derek.

Derek’s eyes were glowing crimson, his fangs barely visible beneath his parted lips. “Your wound,” his voice was gravelly with evident want, but strained with concern.

“I’ve been telling you for two days that I’ve healed enough to—” Stiles started to reprimand him, however he wasn’t able to finish as Derek kissed him. He wrapped his arms around his neck, running his hands into Derek’s hair as they pushed and pulled at one another. He released a moan when Derek slid him into his lap, only to have the brush of their arousals fuel their need to feel the other even more.

Stiles released a playful laugh into Derek’s mouth when his body hit the bed, Derek’s body tumbling over him. He wrapped his legs firmly around Derek’s waist, canting his hips up against the Alpha’s. The confine of his pants was becoming unbearable as he clawed at Derek’s back.

Derek suddenly pulled back from their kiss, his eyes closed as he forced his hands against the bed. His arms were locked into place as he fisted handfuls of the sheets. He tried to calm his breathing, telling himself to ignore the way Stiles’ whimpers of protests easily became moans of desire for him to come back.

“Derek, why did you stop?” Stiles whined, his heat slowly building more intensely with every moment Derek’s lips—his hands—weren’t on him. He reached up to cup Derek’s face in his hands, leaning up to kiss his forehead and cheeks in encouragement.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek finally asked, panting as his shoulders tensed from holding back.

“What?” Stiles panted in confusion.

“I can orally satisfy you,” Derek explained. “Even use my fingers. There doesn’t have to be full penetration—”

“Oh gods,” Stiles cursed as a shiver of want shuddered through his body, his insides coating with more slick just from the thought of Derek inside of him. He pressed his forehead against Derek’s, catching his breath as he ran his hands down to Derek’s chest. “I want you. All of you. Inside me, around me. And if you even think about getting out of this bed without knotting me at least once, I will make you regret it.”

That was all it took before Derek was kissing Stiles once again, a wave of satisfaction falling over both of them. Stiles abandoned his small caresses of Derek’s torso for failed attempts in unlacing Derek’s trousers.

“I can’t—” Stiles started to protest, pulling his head back from Derek’s when he heard the sound of ripping material. He looked between them, partially smiling when he noticed Derek was in the middle of ripping Stiles’ pants off of him. He elevated his hips to assist him, making it easier for him to toss the offending material away from them. “Doesn’t solve you,” he taunted in an endearing way as he gestured towards his trousers. He whined when Derek sat up, pulling his hands away from Stiles’ body in order to take care of his own trousers. He watched Derek quickly removed them, sending them off into the distance to join Stiles’.

It didn’t take long until Stiles was grinding against Derek, both of them painfully affected by the hormones radiating between them. It had panicked Stiles when his heat intensified, only realizing that this was his first heat with a mate—with Derek. He was told, in painfully elaborate details, that his heats would change once he took a mate, but nothing could prepare him for how he was feeling now. He felt empty, a hollowness that shook him to his very core as he clung to Derek for help.

Stiles moaned and bucked into Derek the minute his hand slid past his cleft, fingertip brushing his entrance. He pushed back into Derek’s hand, almost pinning it between his body and the bed. He tightly grasped to Derek, moaning into their kiss as Derek’s finger slipped inside him, testing how ready he really was.

“I’m ready,” Stiles’ voice became whinier as he pleaded, the need to be filled taking over all his senses. “Empty, ready,” he panted, grasping at Derek’s hips. “Need you, Derek, gods, I need you.”

Derek cursed, hooking his hands under Stiles’ armpits, easily hauling Stiles upright and into his lap. “If you want to be face to face—”

“I want to see your face,” Stiles nodded in affirmation, fingernails clawing at Derek’s chest as he tried to lift himself up to get his cock inside him.

“If you want that and my knot,” Derek started, biting at Stiles’ bottom lip, dragging a whimper from the Omega. “You’re going to have to be on top.”

Stiles knew his eyes were burning orange now, almost clambering the rest of the way up Derek’s body. He wanted that, he wanted Derek underneath him, he wanted to make him moan, gasp, and curse at the pleasure he would give him. He wanted to make him lose control.

Derek moved them, positioning his body beneath Stiles, carefully steadying him. He released a moan in the form of a sigh when Stiles’ hand wrapped around his cock. He moved his hands to Stiles’ ass, helping hold him open as he slowly sank down, both of them groaning at the final contact they were both seeking.

Stiles’ hands abandoned Derek’s cock in favor of gripping his shoulders for balance. He was uncertain in his movements, fearing his lack of experience once more. He felt a swell of encouragement as Derek moved to rest flat on his back, his hands secure on Stiles’ hips to help him. He rose, moving along the shaft of Derek’s cock until he could feel the head pull at his rim before sinking back down. He repeated the action, his whole body shaking with each movement as Derek tightened his grip on him, another reminder that he was being anchored by an Alpha—by his mate.

“Stiles,” Derek partially growled, his fingers moving to splay over the taut skin over Stiles’ abdomen. His fingertips grazed the pink scar, still healing, causing a small cry to come from Stiles as he covered his hand over Derek’s.

Stiles didn’t want Derek to think about the scar and what it meant. He wanted to have his thoughts on him, and only him. “Yours, yours,” he stated with every movement, moving Derek’s hands across his body until they settled on his hips.

Derek let his head hang back, exposing his own throat to Stiles as he used his upper strength to steady Stiles. He rocked his own hips into Stiles every other downward push Stiles made. He kept his eyes fixed on Stiles’ face, lids barely open from the pleasure. He could feel the way his own eyes burned red, unable to stop his Alpha instincts from taking over. He felt complete, able to let go of the responsibility that was hanging over him as he forgot about the need to be in control. He gladly let Stiles use him for what he needed, content in the way Stiles clung to him, telling him it was more than just their animal instincts to mate—to breed.

Stiles had been right, they both needed this. They both needed to forget who they were supposed to be and their responsibilities outside this room—outside of just them.

“Mine,” Derek managed to utter.

Stiles leaned forward, bracing his hands against Derek’s chest, a high-pitched whine forced from his throat at the new angle he found. He held his head high, locking eyes with Derek as he diligently sped his motions to force Derek into him faster and harder, desperately chasing his orgasm. He let a small smile cross his lips when he saw just how debauched and utterly perfect Derek looked.

“I’m getting … close,” Stiles panted, letting his head hang as his muscles ached from his repetitive up and down movements.

“Me too,” Derek partially whimpered when Stiles shifted his body, causing Derek’s swollen knot to pull against his rim.

“Fuck,” Stiles almost cried, his grip on Derek tightening as his claws grew longer. “Almost there. Almost,” he nearly begged, pressing his face into the crook of Derek’s neck, nipping and licking the skin there.

“Come on, Stiles. Mark your Alpha,” Derek’s voice was low and comforting in Stiles’ ear. It was Derek’s hand wrapped around his cock that forced Stiles’ orgasm through him, pleasure radiating throughout him as he screamed Derek’s name. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was because the position or because of his heat, but there was something different than his other orgasm. Sure, the only time they had penetrative sex was the night of the Dance of Souls, but there were plenty mutual hand and blowjobs that ended in orgasm. But this orgasm left him a weak, almost crying mess against Derek’s chest. But he felt whole and complete, Derek having satisfied Stiles’ needs to be filled.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned his name, closing his eyes as he came, spilling inside of him. His body was trembling as his skin flushed, his body covered in sweat from the intensity of it. He released a low whimper when another minor orgasm shot through him from the sensation of Stiles’ fingertips tracing the contours of his body as Stiles’ lips placed small kisses across his throat and collarbone.

Stiles rested his head on Derek’s chest, closing his eyes as he listened to the soft beat of Derek’s heart. He released a small, content moan as Derek ran his fingers through his hair, both of them still coming down from their high. He sighed, knowing that the calm they both felt now was only going to disappear, becoming more scarce and short than either of them liked.

“We should both get some sleep,” Stiles partially mumbled into Derek’s chest. “I can get kind of crazy during my heats. Like climbing the curtains, crazy.”

A small chuckle rumbled from Derek’s chest as he pictured a heat drunk Stiles trying to climb the curtains. “You’d probably fall,” he sleepily commented.

“I have,” Stiles replied as he closed his eyes.

“I’ll just have to keep you busy,” Derek answered.

“I am all for that,” Stiles stated as he started to drift.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles was surprised when his heat stopped within the next two days. He never had experienced a short heat, but he was grateful all the same. He was more than happy when Derek remained with him, even after Stiles assured him his heat was broken. He didn’t argue against the way the Alpha nurtured his every need, the way he watched him as he ate to make sure he was eating enough, the way he washed them both after every wave of his heat. He was nervous when Derek encouraged he meet with Deaton to talk about how short his heat was.

“I’m sure it’s because I skipped,” Stiles stated in an attempt to reassure Derek was they walked down the halls. “I wasn’t even supposed to have my heat for another few months. This was probably just my body catching up, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All the same—”

“I know,” Stiles replied. “I’ll go see him after I spend some time with the twins,” he explained. Once they reached the twins’ room, he leaned in to gently kiss Derek. He let out a surprised sigh when Derek lightly pushed him against the wall, his body settling against his.

“Derek,” Stiles spoke his name between kisses.

“I’m already missing having you to myself,” Derek replied, clinging to Stiles.

“I think you’re a little post-heat drunk,” Stiles mused, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“No I just want you to myself. Always,” Derek stated as he pressed his face into Stiles’ neck.

“Me too. But I’ll see you at dinner,” Stiles replied, hands gently roaming Derek’s back in a comforting manner.

“Ew, Derek and Stiles are making out,” one of the twins announced as they partially opened the door.

Stiles suppressed a laugh as he looked down at the twin.

“Derek just misses me,” Stiles stated as Derek pulled away from him, quieting the faint whimper he felt from the loss of contact.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Derek stated, giving Stiles one last kiss before parting.

“Yuck!” The twin stated, pulling Stiles into the room by his hand. “I hope I don’t get _that_ disgusting when I get a mate.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

Derek twirled the quill in his hands, ignoring what the advisors were arguing over this time, idly flipping through the pages in front of him. All he thought about was Stiles, wondering if he should have brought him to Deaton himself. Stiles had reassured him that it was nothing to be worried about, but everything worried Derek when it came to Stiles. It worried him to leave him alone while there was still a looming threat.

“Lydia’s gone!” Scott loudly announced as he opened the doors to the council room, startling the advisors.

“Young man, we are—”

“What happened?” Derek asked as he stood from his chair.

“I’m not sure,” Scott replied, both of them ignoring the advisors. “Allison hasn’t been able to be by her side, with Chris still unconscious, but she was in her rooms all day with no disturbances. We thought it was unusual, considering how often she asked us to retrieve her things or to escort her during a walk. When we went to find her, she and Kate were gone.”

“Kate was watching her?” Derek questioned.

“She was. She was rotating with—”

“Chris woke up?” Peter urgently asked as he walked through the doors.

“Why aren’t you with the twins and Stiles?” Derek immediately questioned, surprised by his uncle’s presence.

“Kate said you asked for me. I heard from one of the other guards I was passing that Chris woke up and was causing a commotion,” Peter explained.

“You left them with Kate?” Scott asked.

“Kira’s with Stiles, I figured Kate could manage to protect the twins,” Peter replied.

“We need to find Lydia,” Derek replied, pardoning them from the advisors as they headed down the hall towards Chris’ room. “Does Allison know?”

“I sent a guard to inform her, just in case she finds out another way, we will know if she tries to sneak off to find her on her own,” Scott explained.

“I want more guards on Stiles and the twins. I also want you to tell Kate that we have to talk to her, especially if she’s the last person to see Lydia,” Scott nodded, heading off to inform the guards that they were on more alert.

“Why would the assassin take Lydia?” Peter questioned as he followed Derek.

“I don’t know. Maybe having the last living Martin has to do with it,” Derek grimly replied.

“You can’t just enslave a banshee, _or_ a Martin,” Peter stated.

“She’s probably unconscious to keep her from screaming,” Derek answered. “The sooner we talk to Chris and question Kate, the faster we can—”

“Derek!” Allison’s voice broke through them as she came running through the halls.

“Allison, we’re looking for Lydia, and Kate will—”

“It was Kate!” Allison nearly yelled, her face red with anger as she approached them. “Kate attacked my father with a crazed fox on a leash! She was the one with the bow that injured Stiles and killed Talia.”

Derek felt his stomach drop, sinking like a stone in an unruly river. He suddenly knew why Kate told Peter he wanted to see him. Why Lydia was missing. Why Chris was causing such a commotion.

“Stiles and the twins,” both Derek and Peter uttered at the same time, immediately taking off as they ran down the hallway.

It didn’t matter how fast they ran. They stumbled across the bodies of guards outside the twins’ rooms. Peter quickly checked them as Derek ran by him, stumbling through the door.

The room was a mess, furniture scattered and splintered apart from a fight. Scott was kneeling beside Kira, clutching her tightly as he drew some of her pain away. Kira was apologizing as she winced in pain.

“What happened?” Derek asked, moving closer to Kira. “Where are Stiles and the twins?”

“Kate said she had to speak with someone,” Kira started. “I heard the cries of the guards on the other side of the door after she exited. I told Stiles and the twins to get behind me. Stiles tried to get Alex and Mal out through the balcony. But she came back too quickly. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried to protect them.”

“She used a wolfsbane knife,” Scott told Derek.

“She thought I’d replace myself with a wolf, not Kira,” Peter replied with a bitter frown.

“Or that you wouldn’t leave,” Scott replied.

“I wish I hadn’t,” Peter honestly stated. “I’d sink my teeth into her throat in an instant.” He turned his attention towards Derek, noticing the rigid nature of his shoulders. He reached a hand out to touch him, immediately recoiling when Derek snapped his head to the side to look at him.

Derek’s eyes were burning a deep crimson, his fangs had descended as his wolf took over. He was furious, his breath coming in pants with every moment in Stiles’ absence.

Peter flashed his eyes blue in respect, turning his head to the side, offering his throat in compliance—a symbol that he wasn’t challenging Derek. He may have prided himself in pestering his family, particularly Derek, but he knew better than to upset him in his current state.

“I want her found, dragged before me, and begging for her pathetic life before I tear her throat out,” Derek managed to growl through clenched teeth, every word he spoke held a heavy promise of vengeance. “She killed my mother, has assaulted and continues to harm _my mate_. There is no telling what else she has done. I don’t care what it takes. Find her.”


	9. A Fairy Tale's Villain

“I’ll come with you,” Chris protested as he started to get up from the bed.

“Dad, no,” Allison replied, pushing him back into the bed.

“It’s my fault she’s gotten away with this,” Chris argued.

“She hasn’t gotten away with anything yet,” Peter remarked. “Was there anything else from that night that could give us a hint as to what she is up to?”

Chris shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. I was checking the weapons inventory, and next thing I knew I heard snarling. I turned to see what looked like a wild … crazed fox. And Kate. She was controlling the thing like it was just an animal. Every ounce of humanity it might have once had was gone.

“Kate didn’t say anything to me before she had the thing attack me. But there was someone else with her. I couldn’t recognize him. He was hanging back, around the corner as if he was waiting for Kate to finish it. I was still conscious when she left me. One of the last things I heard was Lydia’s scream.”

“Kate wanted to get you out of the way, why?” Scott questioned.

“I don’t know,” Chris honestly replied. “I haven’t talked to Kate in …” He paused, a look dawning on his face as if everything had fallen into place. “I was looking into Laura’s death, at Stiles’ request. I had asked Kate about the day Laura left.”

Everyone tensed when they heard the sound of splintering wood. They cautiously turned to look at Derek, who had remained sitting in the corner of the room the entire time. Derek’s claws were buried in the wood of the chair’s arms.

“Stiles asked you to look into Laura’s death?” Derek calmly questioned.

“He was convinced there was something a miss,” Chris answered. “He said that there was evidence of her fighting a single foe. As if someone followed her and waited to attack. I asked Kate about it the night of the festival,” he explained. “Laura had Kate transferred to guarding her the night before she died. Kate never mentioned anything, and I didn’t second-guess it until she tried to play oblivious. She said she hadn’t seen Laura that day, but there were a handful of guards that said they saw her and Laura arguing.”

“Your mother thought it was strange Laura asked Stiles to apologize to you,” Peter commented.

“We got in a fight,” Derek stated. “She wanted to keep fighting, I didn’t. She called me a fool, and I called her an animal.” His grip on the chair tightened, the wood groaning in protest. “She didn’t know mother sent an offering of peace to the Stilinskis.”

“If Laura was heading to the Stilinski palace, it wasn’t to keep fighting. She wasn’t that foolish,” Peter stated.

“A young fox was brought into the palace the night before. You remember?” Derek asked as he turned to Chris.

“I do,” Chris nodded. “He was badly injured—foxglove poisoning. He might have been … sixteen. He died crying for his mother,” he solemnly concluded.

“Laura changed,” Derek continued. “Seeing that boy die made her want to stop this war, I know it.”

“You think she snuck by the skirmishes and headed for the Stilinski palace to broker peace terms,” Peter concluded. “If Kate knew that—”

“Laura trusted Kate. We _all_ trusted Kate,” Chris bitterly stated. “She probably confided in her. It wouldn’t be hard for Kate to get her hands on wolfsbane.”

“How?” Peter questioned as he stepped forward. “We don’t even have a great deal of access to it know that we’re at peace with the foxes. How could she—”

“Because the Argent clan originated as merchants, not guards. Our family’s personal caches hold almost every known poison imaginable. Kate would have been able to get both foxglove and wolfsbane from our caches without anyone knowing.”

“Could she be anywhere on the premises?” Peter questioned. “Any place hidden well enough that she could hold two adults and two children hostage without making a scene?”

“Not that I know of,” Chris replied. “She could be anywhere, but she wouldn’t risk moving them. If Lydia is unconscious to keep her from screaming, that means Kate or Stiles would have to carry her. Even if Kate has an accomplice, she’ll be waiting for them.”

“She’s doing a better job at hiding their scents then I thought she was capable of,” Derek gloomily concluded. “But if she wanted Stiles, why bother taking Lydia and the twins?”

Peter closed his eyes, realization dawning on him. “How do you keep an Omega from trying to escape?” He asked Derek as he turned to look at him, already knowing the answer as he waited for Derek to catch up.

Derek looked at his uncle, taking a moment to solve his question. He felt his stomach drop the minute he thought of it. “You make them protect their family.”

“As long as she wants Stiles alive and with her, she’s going to keep the twins alive. Stiles won’t let her hurt them,” Peter explained.

“What about Lydia?” Allison asked.

“A bargaining chip,” Derek offered. “Where are Boyd and Erica?” He suddenly asked Peter.

“Scott's having them help with the search,” Peter replied.

“Alright,” Derek nodded as he stood. “I want Cora and Isaac waiting here with Chris, with at least half a dozen guards outside incase Kate comes back. Allison,” he turned to face her as he spoke.

“I’m not staying here while Lydia—”

“I’m not asking you to,” Derek replied. “I’m not waiting here either while Stiles is out there, so I don’t expect you to do the same with Lydia missing.”

Allison hesitated before she nodded.

“I need you to go through Kate’s room. Try to find something that we can use. Peter, you go with her,” Derek instructed her. He turned away from them, heading down the hall to join in the search.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Mal and Alex pressed into Stiles’ side, both of them whimpering. Stiles attempted to inspect Alex’s arm, noticing the way the shackle burned the skin it touched. Mal bit his bottom lip as he tried to ignore the pain his own shackle provided.

“I know it hurts,” Stiles tried to calm Alex when he whined. “I need to look at it though, Alex.”

“Don’t bother,” Kate announced as she entered the dungeon.

“If you want to shackle someone, shackle me, then,” Stiles defiantly offered. “They’re children.”

“Wolf children,” Kate corrected him. “Hale children at that. This prevents you or them from howling for Derek.”

“What makes you think—”

“If I had you shackled, you’d howl for Derek, telling them to run. Since they’re shackled, they could howl and have Derek hear it. It would take the guard a little more than five minutes to get here,” Kate knelt in front of Stiles as she spoke. “Just enough time for me to slit their throats and drive this knife”—she presented the knife, placing it on display for Stiles to see—“through your heart.

“Because we both know you won’t leave them behind. That was the whole point to bringing them along, as annoying as they are,” Kate added as she stood up. “They’re like an insurance policy. Besides, those are wolfsbane shackles, not foxglove. You’d be able to slip free from those all too easily.”

“Then why have Lydia?” Stiles question, his eyes flickering over to Lydia’s unconscious body, her arms and legs tied together as well as her mouth gagged as she lay on the opposite side of the room.

“Tell me, Prince Stiles—”

“King,” Stile snapped. “If you’re going to threaten me, at least use the correct title.” He knew angering her by most standards was unwise, but he couldn’t help but aggravate her more. Her anger seemed to be something that was easily ignited; something he hoped would create an opportunity.

“ _King_ Stiles,” Kate venomously stated. “Do you really think I will reveal my entire plot like some villain in your stories?”

“You’re so sure that you’ve won, what could the harm be?” Stiles questioned.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart,” Kate replied.

“You do realize that when Lydia wakes up, she will scream, and no gag is going to stop her scream from being heard,” Stiles stated.

“For your sake, I hope she doesn’t scream,” Kate turned her back on him, looking down the tunnel as if she was waiting for someone.

“Why bother taking a Martin—the last living Martin—at that. She’ll never bow to you.”

“You think this is about having some banshee at my beck and call?” Kate scoffed. “It’s about paying an old debt, nothing more.”

Stiles tightened his hold on Mal and Alex, eyes darting back and forth for a way to escape. He knew it was only a matter of time before Derek and the guard catch their scent to track, but he figured Kate knew that as well.

“You can’t hide. Not from this,” Stiles stated.

Kate laughed, turning her back to him. “Once Derek finds the dead bodies of his mate and little brothers, I won’t have to hide. He’ll lose all hope. He’ll have lost almost everything, and once he’s weakened enough that the wolves lose respect for him and begin this war anew—which they will—annihilating your pathetic race will be easy. Taking the place of the Hales as the head of the wolf clan will be easier than anyone thought possible.”

Stiles glared at Kate, holding Mal and Alex close to him.

“I will say, it would have been much more satisfying if you weren’t useless. But then again, you did spend your heat with Derek, so there is a possibility,” Kate spoke as if she was addressing herself, deep in thought. She turned, advancing on Stiles as she pointed the dagger towards him. Stiles instinctively reacted by pressing the twins away from him, shielding them with his arms. Kate placed the tip of the dagger just against his abdomen, playfully twisting the knife. “The myths say some Omegas of old conceived children when mated to a strong Alpha. Maybe you could be pregnant,” she sneered as she spoke. “I think it would be that much more satisfying to watch the anguish on Derek’s face, knowing he lost his mate _and_ his unborn pup.”

“You’re sick,” Stiles managed to hold back his fear.

“No, no, sweetheart,” Kate objected as she withdrew the dagger from Stiles. “I’m tired. I am so tired of _you_ thinking you are better than us. At first, I thought it’d be easy getting rid of you. But for some reason, you just wouldn’t die. My father tried for the longest time to scheme a way to kill the little Omega prince. I think killing you will finally make him proud.” She stood, theatrically pacing as she twirled the dagger in her hands.

“You know, we tried to kill you off before. But you just wouldn’t die,” Kate partially laughed as she paced. “There were rumors of the little Omega prince’s kind disposition, how everyone was certain his rule would be even more lenient than his father’s. But that wasn’t good enough. With you dead, the entire fox species would fall into disorder and ruin.”

“So you bided your time?” Stiles bitterly asked.

Kate released a heartfelt laugh, one that chilled Stiles to the bone. “I _tried_ having you killed. I was probably sixteen when my father first started talking about implementing me into the Hale pack. Laura was preferable, but she wasn’t naïve enough to fall for it. I was positive I caught Derek’s eye, but then again, thirteen year olds are rather hard to judge. And then he met Paige”—Kate crinkled her nose at the mention of the other girl—“and that just turned everything upside down. Getting rid of her was easy, though.”

Stiles’ eyes widened at Kate’s confession. _For a woman bent on not telling me her motive, she’s revealing a lot._ “She wasn’t poisoned by accident. You wanted her dead instead of Derek,” Stiles surmised.

“If Derek died, it was one less Hale Alpha to deal with, but Paige was the intended target,” Kate turned to look at Stiles. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. I did both of us a favor, sweetheart. With Paige gone, Derek wallowed in misery and wonderfully stumbled right into my arms—”

“I think you mean claws,” Alex snapped at her.

“Weak, ugly claws,” Mal added.

Kate rolled her eyes at them. “You should be thanking me, you little cretins. You never would have met Stiles if Paige wasn’t moved out of the way.”

“You tried to kill Stiles!” Alex yelled at her.

“How many times was it you?” Stiles asked as he held Alex back from lunging for Kate.

“Well, there was the festival,” Kate started, holding up one finger as she started to count. “In which Talia died. A little ahead of schedule, but not too bad.” She sneered at Mal and Alex’s growls. “Then there was the run when I tracked you down and released that wolf.” Another finger. “Then, the assassin who couldn’t even kill a couple of fourteen year olds.” Another finger.

Stiles drew in a breath. “You sent the assassin. In Derek’s name.”

“How else do you get a wolf hell-bent on annihilating the royal fox family without saying it’s for ‘gods and country’?” Kate stated in a mocking voice.

“You’re a twisted monster,” Stiles breathily stated.

“Oh, then you’ll love this, sweetheart,” Kate’s voice grew husky with amusement as she knelt by Stiles once more. “It wasn’t just Paige that I took away from Derek, or Malia away from you. There was one last time,” she held up her pinky as she spoke, smiling from the knowledge she held. “But it’s so hard to poison an eight year old when they fuss and won’t eat what they’re supposed to. Especially when _mommy_ doesn’t make them.”

Stiles tried to fight the way his stomach jumped into his throat, his eyes burning with the promise of unshed tears. He tried to suppress the shivers that moved through his body, first from the grief than the anger. He remembered not wanting to eat that night—the night his mother fell ill. He felt his eyes flash orange, knowing Kate knew he understood her suggestion.

“That’s right,” Kate smiled. “ _Mommy_ didn’t die from some incurable illness,” she mockingly smiled. “ _Mommy_ ate foxglove. It was supposed to be enough to kill a weak Omega child, but not a full-grown Alpha fox. Tell me, Stiles, was she confused before she died? Hallucinating? Loss of appetite, stomach pain, vomiting, depression? They say you were with her when she died. Did she even know who you were? That you were her disappointment of an Omega born to two great Alphas. Could she even speak?”

Stiles couldn’t hold himself back, Kate’s laughing taunting him in an endless echo. He lashed out, attempting to claw out her eyes if he could. He felt a small wave of smugness fall over him when he felt his claws dig into her skin, tearing through flesh.

Kate screamed, moving back as she covered her cheek with her hand. She turned to look at Stiles, her eyes flashing gold as she growled at him. She started to raise her hand when someone stopped her.

“Kate!” A male voice reprimanded her, causing her to drop her hand to her side, claws retracting. “If you make him bleed, Derek will be able to tell where we are within minutes.”

“I can only hope that I live long enough to watch Derek choke the life from you,” Stiles snapped through clenched teeth, fighting to keep his tears from falling.

“Hopefully you’ll be dead before Derek even figures half of this out,” the man stated as he moved to inspect Lydia. “We need to get out of here before Derek finds us.”

“Then let’s just kill them and get it over with,” Kate replied as she straightened, glaring down at Stiles.

“The only reason we are still alive and able to put this plan into motion is because they are alive,” the man gestured to Stiles and the twins. “Do you really think the moment Derek finds them, he’s going to be thinking about anything but revenge?”

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles questioned the man. “Kate is a homicidal bitch,” he glared at Kate as he spoke. “But you seem to be more rational,” he added. He paused before continuing with, “And you’re not a wolf.”

“I don’t care about the war, or your hopes to ease our clan’s suffering,” the man snapped at Stiles, seeming to be annoyed by his very existence.

“That’s what Lydia is for? A _bartering_ chip?” Stiles asked in astonishment.

The man laughed. “Lydia is an obstacle, nothing more.”

“Once the Argents are head of the wolf clan, I will be strengthening my pack’s ties by mating Allison off to Matt,” Kate supplied an understanding.

“Thank you for elaborating, Kate,” Matt bitterly stated.

“So what? You’re going to kill Lydia too?” Stiles questioned, as if it was the stupidest idea they could have come up with.

“As I said before, just another necessary obstacle to conquer,” Matt replied, kneeling by Lydia.

“Enough talk,” Kate barked, glaring at Stiles to make him cease conversation. “I’m heading out to check the escape path. When I get back, I want Lydia dead. I’ll slit Stiles’ throat myself,” she commanded. She looked over at Stiles, her gaze sending a cold shiver through him.

“What about the twins?” Matt asked as he looked at Mal and Alex.

“Maybe we should kill one and keep the other,” Kate pretended that she was speaking aloud by accident.

Mal and Alex nuzzled even tighter against Stiles as they tried to hide from Kate’s sight. Stiles emitted a low growl, daring Kate to come any closer to them. Kate merely scoffed at his warning.

“We’ll deal with them once the Omega’s dead,” Kate commented. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she unceremoniously added, exiting the dungeon into the tunnels.

Stiles’ eyes darted over to Matt, watching him loom over Lydia. He knew the next few minutes were the turning point on whether they would survive this nightmare. He had faith that Derek and the others were searching, but this was Kate’s final plan—her fail-safe—and he had no doubt that she covered her tracks better than before. But he could try and handle Matt. He appeared less hell-bent on murder than Kate—only by a little, but that still was something.

“You’re a fool if you think Kate will keep her promise,” Stiles finally spoke, distracting Matt from Lydia. “I may be the one being held captive, but you’re the one on the leash … You’re a fox, and Kate hates us. Do you really think she will let you mate with her niece?”

Matt actually turned his head to look at Stiles, intrigued and surprised by Stiles’ statement.

“It’s not that hard to tell the difference between our species. The fact that you move quicker and stealthier than wolves; the fact that Kate keeps a distance from you; your scent is also unfamiliar to the smells of the Hale palace,” Stiles continued. “I can only imagine the feelings you are harboring for Allison were born from positive means, but this is not the way to proceed. She will never love you the way she does Lydia. And _murdering_ Lydia will not change that.”

“You really think delaying me is going to help you?” Matt questioned as he stood, approaching Stiles. “Kate left you unbound for a reason. Because despite your rank, and your biological need to protect young”—he gestured towards the twins—“you’re still a coward. Just like the rest of our species. You sit here, hoping that _Derek_ will somehow manage to find you. He’s not coming, little Omega. You’re going to die down here, starting this war with newfound hate and determination.”

Stiles focused on Matt, ignoring the way Lydia subtly wiggled her body back and forth, rousing herself from unconsciousness as she fought with the ropes binding her.

“You come near me, or these boys, and I will show you just how much of a _coward_ I am,” Stiles goaded Matt.

“Are you expecting me to be upset by that?” Matt laughed.

“No,” Stiles honestly replied. _Come on, Lydia_. “I expect you to bleed.”

“Maybe Kate won’t mind if I cut out your tongue before she gets back,” Matt snapped at him. “Or maybe one of the brats should die first.”

Stiles straightened his body, emitting a deeper growl when Matt stepped closer. He let his fox take over: pointed claws replacing once blunt nails, sharp fangs descending from smoothly curved teeth, his eyes glowing orange as a warning that he was not going to hold himself back. He felt a small wave of relief when Lydia quietly rose to her feet, shedding the ropes from her limbs.

Lydia quickly made a move to pick up a heavy, discarded piece of debris. She stood, at first on unsteady feet until her strength returned to her.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said to Matt, distracting him longer.

“For what?” Matt scoffed.

“For what Lydia’s going to do to you,” Stiles turned the twins’ heads, covering their eyes.

Lydia didn’t hesitate, hitting Matt in the head as he turned to look at her. She watched him fall, pausing her movements to make sure he wasn’t getting back up before discarding the slab of rock. She turned her attention towards Stiles.

“How did you get your ropes undone?” Stiles questioned Lydia as she wobbled over to him and the twins.

“Allison doesn’t like me being without protection,” Lydia explained, holding up a thin, short stiletto dagger. She placed it on the ground as she inspected the twins. “I made some modifications to my corset to house the dagger.”

Stiles couldn’t suppress the small smile gracing his lips, because it was exactly like Lydia to be housing a small weapon amongst her articles of clothing.

“We need to get these shackles off before she comes back,” Lydia stated, pulling Stiles from his thoughts.

“Kate didn’t give Matt a key, which makes me think she still has it,” Stile replied.

“I can almost slip my hand out,” Alex stated, pulling the shackle against his hand, wiggling it back and forth.

“This isn’t working!” Mal exclaimed, panicking that Kate would be back soon.

“What if …” Lydia shook her head, pretending the thought never crossed her mind. “I could try running; try to find Derek—a guard, anyone—and lead them back here.”

“What were you saying before?” Stiles asked, knowing Lydia was on to something.

“No, it’s no good,” Lydia shook her head, inspecting the shackle on Mal’s leg.

“Lydia, we’re out of options,” Stiles replied.

Lydia looked at Stiles, concern in her eyes as she looked at Alex. “We could slip Alex’s hand out of the shackle … if …” She closed her eyes, not wishing to finish her thought.

“If we break it,” Stiles gloomily finished.

Mal whimpered, clinging to Alex. Alex’s eyes widened as he looked down at the shackle, pulling the chain taut. He released a sad sigh. “Okay,” Alex weakly agreed. “I can … I can do that.”

“Alex—” Lydia started.

“We don’t have time,” Alex argued. “I … I can do it,” he hesitated, looking back down at his hand.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded in agreement, cursing the gods for placing them in the situation. He ran his hand over Alex’s cheek; something that he hoped would be a small comfort to the boy.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“They have to be somewhere,” Derek replied to Scott. They were both lingering in the hallways, exhausted but determined to scour the palace multiple times, if necessary, to find the others.

“We’ve looked everywhere, Derek,” Scott stated. “She just vanished.”

Derek suddenly spun on his heel to face Scott. “She didn’t just vanish! She is here! With my brothers and my mate!”

“Stiles is my best friend, Derek. Don’t think you are the only one—”

Both of them turned their heads when the sound of a screamed reached them. It was soft and faint, coming from somewhere beneath them. It had been a scream that belonged to a child.

“Alex and Mal,” Derek stated as he followed after the scream. He followed the noise until he paused at it’s location, turning to look down the halls as he inspected them. “This doesn’t make any sense … It was coming from here.”

“Derek,” Scott gently called his name.

Derek looked at him, slightly confused when he saw Scott staring at the ground by Derek’s feet. He looked where his foot was resting, noticing the small metal grate under his feet.

“The tunnels,” Derek stated as if it was an obvious place for the others to be kept. He moved from standing on the grate, his eyebrows softened as he realized where they led. “The old dungeons.” He quickly bent down, slipping his fingers through the grate before tearing the metal from the stone, easily casting it aside.

“There was no mention of any dungeons on the maps,” Scott commented as he moved to follow Derek.

“My father had the dungeons closed before he died,” Derek quickly explained. “The only way to access them now is through the tunnel system. Almost no one knows about these except my family and close guard.”

“Kate would know about it?” Scott questioned, follow after Derek.

“Kate would know about it,” Derek grimly confirmed.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“Look at me,” Stiles gently cupped Alex’s face in his hands, forcing the twin to look up at him through his tears. “You are so brave and strong. You did so well,” he stated in reassurance, trying to keep his mind away from the pain the broken bones were emitting as Lydia slipped his hand out of the shackle. “Your mom would be so proud of you—both you boys. _I’m_ really proud of you.”

Alex pressed his face into Stiles shoulder, seeking comfort from the pain. Stiles look at Lydia, watching her as she turned her attention to Mal, inspecting the shackle around his leg.

“Stiles, she’s coming back!” Mal quickly stated in a panic when he heard distant footsteps.

“Lydia, take Alex and go,” Stiles stated, handing Alex off to her.

“Stiles,” Lydia started to protest as Alex clung to her side.

Alex let off a small whimper, not wanting to leave Mal or Stiles behind.

“I’m not leaving Mal here,” Stiles stated. “I can hold her off better than you can. Take Alex and go find help. Lead them back here to us.”

Both Lydia and Alex hesitated as they started to stumble backwards, towards the exit.

“Go!” Stiles nearly yelled at them.

Lydia turned, moving Alex with her as they started to rush down the opposite tunnel, doing her best to ignore her limp.

Stiles turned back to Mal, wrapping his arms around him.

“I’m scared,” Mal admitted, pushing his face into Stiles’ chest.

“I know,” Stiles replied, gently rocking him. “But I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?” He reassured him as he pulled him back from his chest, looking down at him. “Derek’s coming for us,” he stated, gently brushing his thumb over Mal’s cheekbone.

Mal nodded, hiding his face in the comfort of Stiles’ chest once more.

“Derek’s coming for us,” Stiles stated again, convinced that the more he stated it, the more likely it was the truth.

~0~0~0~0~0~

“Lydia!” Allison yelled when she saw her turning the corner, Alex tucked against her side.

“Allison!” Lydia yelled her name in return as she hurried her steps, barely hanging onto Alex anymore.

“Uncle Peter!” Alex yelled, rushing out of Lydia’s grasp to Peter.

“Alex,” Peter breathed in relief, wrapping his nephew in his arms as he held him tight. “Thank the gods you’re okay,” he stated into Alex’s hair, breathing in his comforting scent. “Where’s Mal and Stiles?” He asked as he loosened his hold on Alex.

“They’re down where you told us to never go,” Alex quickly stated. “It’s Kate and some strange man! They’re going to kill Stiles and hurt Mal!”

“Mal’s shackled by his leg, and we couldn’t get it off. Stiles wouldn’t leave him,” Lydia explained, leaning into Allison’s embrace. “He made us go.”

“Stay here with Lydia,” Peter instructed to Alex, pushing him towards the two women.

“Peter—”

“I promised my sister I would give my life protecting her children,” Peter replied, already moving down the hallway. “And I intend to keep that promise, if I must!” His voice called as he rounded the corner, heading for the closest entrance to the underground tunnels.

“Allison, go with him,” Lydia quickly stated, pulling herself away from her arms. She wrapped an arm around Alex, holding him to her side.

“Are you sure?” Allison asked in uncertainty.

“Yes,” Lydia firmly stated. “Please, go.” She leaned in, placing a chaste kiss against Allison’s lips. “They’ll need you.”

Allison opened her mouth to argue before nodding her head in agreement. “Okay,” she uttered before heading after Peter.

“They’ll be okay,” Lydia said to Alex.

“They’ll be okay,” Alex echoed, ignoring the fear he felt growing in his stomach.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Kate wasn’t very surprised when she noticed Matt’s unconscious body. She growled under her breath, annoyed that she had to do everything herself. She paused when entering the room, noticing Lydia was missing. She turned to where Stiles and the twins were supposed to be. Except Mal and Alex were missing and Stiles was standing there, watching her.

“What did you do with them?” Kate let her lip wickedly curl as she advanced towards Stiles.

“I let them go,” Stiles calmly replied, expertly moving to the side to put more distance between them.

“Then why did you stay?” Kate barked.

“Why did Matt say Derek could only find me if I bled?” Stiles asked in response.

“What?”

“You seemed so sure Derek wouldn’t be able to find me. Why?” Stiles asked.

“Because you don’t smell like your normal scent anymore,” Kate stated. “Because you smell more like Derek. He’s too stupid to realize that.”

“I actually think you’re the stupid one, Kate,” Stiles stated, holding up both his hands.

Kate’s eyes dashed between his open palms. Stiles’ right hand was covered in blood, a fresh wound almost healed; his left hand housed a small, stiletto dagger covered in blood.

“You’re that hell-bent on killing me, that you couldn’t even smell _my_ blood over Matt’s,” Stiles explained, his eyes dashing from Kate to look behind her, a small but relieved smile gracing his lips. “But _he_ could.”

Kate quickly turned, taken by surprise when Derek’s hand suddenly fastened around her throat, easily maneuvering her as he slammed her into the wall.

“Derek—” Kate started, his words falling short when his fingers tightened like pistons.

“I wouldn’t speak, if I were you,” Derek growled through clenched teeth, his wolf barely contained as it scratched under his skin, craving the taste of blood. “The only reason you’re still alive is because Stiles asked me not to kill you.” He waited until the sound of multiple footsteps echoed through the tunnels, signaling other guards were on their way, before releasing his hold on her. He easily casted her to the side, turning his attention back to Stiles as he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of his mate’s neck. He deeply inhaled the scent he thought he lost, his wolf happily whining.

“I knew you’d find me,” Stiles softly confessed, tightly holding onto Derek.

“What do you want to do with her?” Scott asked, entering the room once more. Mal unlatched himself from Scott’s side as he ran to both Derek and Stiles, clasping onto their legs as he breathed multiple sighs of relief.

Stiles turned his attention towards Mal, gathering the twin in his arms as he picked him up. He was happy that Derek elected to hold onto him still, refusing to take both hands off of him.

“Stiles wants her to face her crimes,” Derek explained, his eyes flickering to the tunnels as a few guards—including Peter and Allison—arrived.

“People will side with me,” Kate defiantly stated.

“You killed their Queen—their Head Alpha. No wolf will side with you,” Scott stated.

“Both foxes and wolves want this war to end in blood. They neither want nor care if royal blood gets spilt,” Kate replied.

Stiles quickly moved to grab Derek’s arm as he moved forward. “Don’t,” he softly spoke. “She wants you to kill her in hopes she’ll become a martyr.”

“Kate killed Queen Talia in a time of peace. Derek has the right to avenge his mother,” Allison explained. “And I speak for the Argent pack by saying that we accept any and all punishment he sees fit to bestow onto Kate.” She was glaring at her aunt, and part of Stiles wished she could remain oblivious to just how far Kate was prepared to go; how far Kate was willing to use Allison to succeed.

Derek turned his gaze back to Stiles, wishing to know how he would proceed; if killing Kate now was too kind or too severe of a punishment.

“If I kill her,” Derek began, holding Stiles’ gaze as he spoke to Allison. “I am speaking for all wolf packs, as their Alpha. I cannot make that leap.”

Stiles partially frowned before turning his attention from Derek and towards Peter. He turned back to Derek, happy when he noticed Derek followed his gaze to his uncle. Derek furrowed his eyebrows, a small question of confirmation. Stiles nodded in response, placing a gentle hand on Derek’s chest before turning and walking out of the room with Mal.

Derek moved to follow behind Stiles, pausing in the entrance to the tunnels as he stood next to Peter. He turned his gaze back at the room, glancing around. “You’ve taken a great deal from me and Stiles. You took his mother and his intended mate. You took Paige, my sister, and in the process of trying to murder my mate, you killed my mother.” He placed a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder, silently communicating with his uncle before continuing. “But she also wasn’t just my mother,” he let his hand fall from Peter as he started to go after Stiles and his brother.

“She was my sister,” Peter finished Derek’s statement. He confidently took the remaining steps towards Kate’s sitting form before his claws swiftly slashed through the skin of Kate’s throat.

~0~0~0~0~0~

The night was spent in each other's company, neither of them wanting to be from the other's arms. Stiles gladly remained in the bed by Derek's side, unable to get enough of feeling Derek's skin against his. However, he kept feeling the need to check on the twins gnawing at the back of his mind.

“Are you certain they’re alright?” Stiles questioned Derek as he started to rise from the bed, only to be pulled back down by Derek’s embrace. “I had to break Alex’s hand, Derek. And Mal was frightened when he heard your footsteps, he was convinced that—” His words were swallowed down by Derek’s lips against his, preventing him from continuing his ramble.

“The twins are with Peter,” Derek stated between kisses. “You saw them at dinner. You walked them to their room. They wanted to be with Peter.”

“You don’t think they’re frightened to be around me now, do you?” Stiles asked as he relaxed into the bed, loving the feel of Derek’s body pressing into his as he draped over him like a blanket.

“They love you,” Derek reassured Stiles as his fingers played with a few of his strands of hair. “You kept them safe. You didn’t abandon them.”

Stiles nodded, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck. “I knew you’d find me,” he stated against Derek’s lips.

“I was so scared that I wasn’t going to,” Derek confessed, moving to kiss his way down and across Stiles’ throat. “I thought I had lost you, for ever. I kept smelling your scent everywhere. All around me, haunting all of my senses.”

Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, placing kisses here and there across his face. He relaxed, letting Derek observe his features as he did the same. “What?” He asked in a small voice, feeling a blush creep across his skin at the way Derek looked at him.

“I love you,” Derek stated, keeping Stiles’ gaze.

Stiles smiled, tears of joy threatening to spill from his eyes. “I love you, too,” he said as he kissed Derek.

_You were right, mom. Omegas do have a greater power than anyone thought. I love and am loved by an Alpha. A wolf Alpha. We managed to find a peace for this war. We managed to find a balance together. And even better, we're going to be parents. I don't know if it's a wolf or fox, but Derek says it doesn't matter, and that's what matters most to me. Love you and miss you. Thanks for believing, and making me believe too._


	10. Epilogue: The Fox & The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe that this is the end. This story seriously was nothing more than an ambitious idea that sprouted and came to life thanks to your enthusiasm for reading it! I seriously didn't think I would ever try writing a fic in the A/B/O Universe, nor with mpreg. But I have to say, I am extremely satisfied with where this fic has gone and cannot believe the final product is here!
> 
> I just want to thank you all so much for not only sticking through and reading this, but for leaving your lovely comments and giving it kudos (and loving it enough to bookmark it). I cannot tell you how often I was caught smiling like a goofball in public because I got a notification about one of your amazing comments, spurring me on to get you the next chapter. I really feel like I have grown as a writer through this fic, and it's thanks to you guys for your encouragement constructive feedback, so **thank you**.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride and this final installment leaves you as satisfied as I am with it. Thank you, lovelies! Hugs and kisses to all of you <3
> 
> Just a side note: this Epilogue goes through years. I didn't break it up by giving it headlines of how long has passed, but it is mentioned through the ages of characters.

The people had accepted Kate’s death as justice for their fallen queen. The fox clan accepted the Argent pack’s formal apology—denouncing Kate and her actions—and took comfort in the fact that Stiles was no longer in danger.

It wasn’t until a few months later that Deaton concluded that Stiles’ heat ending early was normal. It was Derek who asked him to verify, both Alpha and Omega shocked into momentary silence when Deaton explained that it was normal for heats to end early when conception occurred. Stiles laughed when Derek threatened Deaton, certain he was playing a practical joke on them—probably thinking Peter was behind such an act. It was Derek who laughed next when Stiles glared at Deaton for mentioning the tests he would like to run on in order to learn more about male Omegas and their ability to conceive. (“I’m not a science experiment,” Stiles snapped. Deaton merely replied to Derek, “Mood swings will occur throughout the pregnancy”).

Most nights ended with Derek’s arm wrapped around Stiles’ abdomen, his open palm resting flat against his stomach in a protective manner. Until one night Derek jerked awake, causing Stiles to turn over in a sleep riddled state to look at him and ask what was wrong.

“I thought I heard …” Derek paused, turning his head to look at Stiles. His eyes widened when he looked down at the small bump protruding from Stiles’ stomach. He pushed the blankets back from them, moving his way down the bed.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, amused by his mate’s behavior as he sat up from his reclined position.

Derek ignored him as he placed his hands on Stiles’ hips, resting his ear against his stomach.

Stiles remained silent as he watched Derek’s head. He arched his eyebrows when Derek lifted his head, smiling at his stomach before looking up at him. “I thought I heard a third heartbeat,” he started. He knew Stiles caught on the minute his facial features softened. “I was right. I can hear the baby’s.”

“You can?” Stiles weakly asked, releasing a shaky breath in the form of a giddy laugh when Derek nodded.

It took a little while, but with Derek insistence that Stiles could if he only focused, Stiles finally heard the soft beating of the baby’s heart.

The following nights consisted of Derek resting his head against Stiles’ growing belly, softly speaking to the baby. Stiles gently ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, smiling as he watched his mate speaking to their unborn child. He loved the feeling of the baby moving in response to Derek’s voice.

Stiles began to grow restless the closer he came to his due date, his hands roaming over his stomach as he panicked when thinking about the birthing process. Deaton informed him that the safest way to proceed would be to birth the child through surgical means. He feared the way there was no knowledge of previous male Omegas giving birth. He feared more for the life of their child than his own, terrified that something might go wrong.

It was a few nights before the scheduled birth date that Stiles grew restless, shifting his body in Derek’s arms as he twisted and turned.

“What’s wrong?” Derek softly asked, partially asleep as he rested his arm around Stiles’ stomach.

“I’m just thinking about things,” Stiles replied, huffing as he turning onto his back, still not used to the bump of his stomach preventing him from sleeping certain ways.

“Would those things happen to involve our unborn child and the fact that their birthday is in a few days?” Derek nonchalantly asked, opening his eyes as he propped his body up to look at Stiles.

“Why do you even bother forming it like a question when you know that’s why?” Stiles snapped back at him.

“Because you won’t talk to me about it otherwise,” Derek calmly replied.

“Yes, alright? I’m nervous,” Stiles replied. “I’m nervous about being cut open. I’m scared our child might get hurt. What if, because I’m a male Omega, something goes wrong and—”

“Stiles,” Derek sternly said his name to catch his attention. “If something goes wrong, which it won’t, it would not be your fault, do you understand that?” He turned Stiles head to make him look at him. “Do you?”

Stiles hesitated, scanning Derek’s features before releasing a breath. “How can you be so calm?”

“I’m not,” Derek replied. “I’m freaking out,” he confessed. “I never thought I’d father a child. And I absolutely never thought I’d father a child with my mate—a mate that I deeply love.” He took Stiles’ small smile as a win, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “You’re what is most important to me. You and the baby. So don’t think that I’m not equally as panicked as you. But I am going to be there for you—the both of you.”

The baby’s birth was a lengthy process, but everything was worth it when both Stiles and Derek could hear the baby’s first tiny screams. Derek stayed by Stiles’ side, draining his pain from him, though both of them were unable to take their eyes from the bundle in Deaton’s arms.

“Congratulations,” Deaton stated as he turned to face them. “It’s a healthy baby girl.”

~0~0~0~0~0~

Talia, daughter of Alpha wolf Derek Hale and Omega fox Stiles Stilinski, was born as proof to the union of the Hale and Stilinski packs, as well as the wolf and fox clans. She had a great deal riding on her, but her birth was met with great acceptance and rejoice. The celebrations were endless, Alphas from both fox and wolf territories traveling to pay their respects to her and her parents. Some were skeptical when Talia had yet to present herself as an Alpha, Beta, or Omega; others were fearful she would ultimately present as an Omega.

It wasn’t until Talia was four that she fully shifted, displaying herself as a fox. Her dark onyx fur—obscured only by the small spot of orange on the tip of her tail—was not the only thing about her animal form that matched Derek’s: her eyes burned Alpha red. Stiles and Derek, however, could care less that Talia presented as an Alpha fox, both only concerned that their daughter was happy.

They were both content as they watched her enjoying her first run. Stiles kept a slow enough pace to remain near her, watching as she chased after Derek’s tail with gleeful interest. Talia would look back at Stiles to make sure she was behaving herself appropriately, smiling whenever she was encouraged to continue.

Talia remained with Stiles and the twins, playing with her uncles as she waited for her other father to return with the others. She learned to pounce and lunge, managing to tackle Alex, toppling him over. She happily pranced when her father released a small laugh, amused that she managed to topple her uncle.

After Derek and the others returned with the buck, Stiles held Talia back, helping her to understand how the hierarchy was. Stiles pressed himself into Derek’s side when he settled onto the ground by his mate and daughter. Talia looked at both her parents, looking between them as she waited for them to signal her to do something.

Derek smiled, using his muzzle to push his part of the deer over to both her and Stiles. Stiles playfully nipped at Derek’s muzzle, licking the blood that stained his fur from landing the killing blow on the deer. Derek pushed into Stiles, allowing him to continue his action.

Talia was too busy falling over the part of the deer to notice, her jaw not strong enough yet to fully pull the meat from the bone. She huffed, rearing up on her hind legs as she pawed at the meat, digging her claws in. She growled and barked at the piece, catching the pack’s attention.

Derek rolled his eyes, thinking about how much Talia reminded him of Stiles as he moved to bite down on the bone. Stiles moved to dig his claw into the meat, tearing several strands from the bone, smiling when Talia cheerfully shuffled from paw to paw as she waited for her fathers to finish. She moved to settle herself between them, taking her time to consume the portion they cut out for her.

Stiles moved and placed the bare bone in front of her to gnaw on. Talia turned her head to the side, quizzically looking at the bone before she hefted up the bone to deposit in front of Derek. Derek turned his head to look at Talia, eyes wandering from his daughter to Stiles. Stiles only smiled, laying his head down over Talia’s yawning form. Derek moved to gently nuzzle Talia to thank her for offering him the bone. Talia playfully pawed at Derek’s nose before nuzzling him back. Stiles peeked an eye open to look at Derek, smiling when Derek playfully nipped his nose.

The night was long, but ended with Derek gently carrying Talia’s sleeping form back to the palace. Stiles couldn’t help but admire how perfect they both looked. Talia was curled into a sleeping position, her paws and head hanging as her torso was safely nestled in Derek’s mouth. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness and pride in having a mate like Derek: strong, caring, and loving, everything necessary for nurturing their pup. It made Stiles’ fox purr with anticipation for his next heat to hit, looking forward to the possibility of giving Derek another pup to care for.

~0~0~0~0~0~

A pair of small slender arms wrapped around Stiles’ leg, causing him to turn, looking down and smiling at a head full of curly black hair. Talia was giggling as she turned to look up at Stiles, grinning wide. Her eyes were big, doe like orbs of honeyed whiskey, similar to Stiles’. She had freckles to match, but skin slightly tanner than his, more like Derek’s.

“Talia,” a voice from down the hall called.

“Ah!” Talia yelled as she moved to hide behind Stiles’ legs. “Daddy’s going to get me!”

“Talia! This isn’t funny,” a flustered Derek yelled as he turned the corner, head darting both ways in search of her. “You know you’re—” He froze when he caught sight of Stiles.

“This is your version of nap time?” Stiles questioned, crossing his arms over his chest in mock scrutiny.

“She said one game,” Derek explained as he approached.

“I had a nap yesterday!” Talia exclaimed pushing her face into Stiles’ legs.

“Little girls have a nap every day,” Stiles replied, turning his body to face her.

“But I don’t want to,” Talia pouted.

“This is what I’ve dealt with all afternoon,” Derek commented as he came to stand next to Stiles.

“My dad has her tomorrow,” Stiles offered, leaning forward to press a kiss against Derek’s lips.

“Tomorrow, huh?” Derek asked, holding onto Stiles longer than necessary.

“Derek! Stiles!” Two figures came barreling down the hallway, headed right for the two of them. Alex and Mal looked much older than their age would suggest, more than five years having passed since the war ended. They looked even more like Derek once they had hit their growth spurts. “Uncle Peter said if we asked you, we could go outside to watch the dancers!” The twins both blurted out before noticing Talia. “Can Talia come too?”

Stiles tried to hide his smile as Derek groaned while Talia began to plead with them.

“Please! I’ll take a nap afterwards! I want to play with Uncle Mal and Uncle Alex! Please!” Talia continued to beg as she pulled on Stiles’ clothes and Derek’s hand.

“We’ll watch over her!” Alex offered with a smile.

“Come on,” Mal pleaded. “We’re eleven, we can watch her.”

“As if,” Peter scoffed from the end of the hallway, Chris standing beside him as he shook his head at the situation.

“Uncle Peter will be with us!” Alex explained.

“And Chris is supposed to be guarding us!” Mal added.

“I _guess_ if Uncle Peter watches you,” Derek started.

“Maybe an hour or two out will do her some good,” Stiles commented.

“Thank you!” Talia exclaimed as her eyes lit up, quickly turning to Alex and Mal. She held her hands out for them to take, the three of them running down the hall.

“Run carefully!” Stiles called after them. “Her legs are smaller than yours!”

“She’ll be fine,” Derek reassured him, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him against his side.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the scraped knees she got playing with them,” Stiles quietly stated, recalling the feeling of dread when he noticed Peter carrying Talia back into the castle. She was smiling with pride at how she didn’t cry when she fell down, her skin already healing. Her smile was what frightened Stiles most.

“Sometimes I feel the same,” Derek added, pressing a gentle kiss into Stiles’ temple.

“You don’t have to see your advisors, do you?” Stiles asked as he turned in Derek’s embrace, wrapping his arm around Derek’s waist as he leaned into him.

“No, they’ve had their fill of harassing me for the day,” Derek replied, wrapping his arms around Stiles as he leaned in to kiss him.

“Good, because I have a surprise for you,” Stiles smiled as he looked up at Derek.

“Would that surprise be in our bedroom?” Derek smirked when Stiles gave him a gently shove.

“Maybe,” Stiles replied. “You’ll have to find out,” he added as he started off down the hallway towards their bedroom. He glanced back over his shoulder at Derek, adding a slight saunter to his steps. He laughed, speeding his steps when Derek actively chased after him.

Stiles had to fight his urges to stay wrapped in Derek’s arms whenever he caught up to him, creating a small game of catch and release as he tried to get them to their bedroom. They laughed together when they finally reached their bedroom door, exchanging kisses and wandering hands.

“You have to close your eyes,” Stiles explained, hands pressing against Derek’s chest to give them enough space.

“I’m a few seconds from just unwrapping you here,” Derek replied, pressing into Stiles as he kissed and nipped at his neck.

“You can do whatever you want with me once we’re inside,” Stiles stated, gently nibbling the skin just behind Derek’s ear.

Derek groaned, firmly placing his hands against the door, forcing space between Stiles and him. He closed his eyes, letting his desire simmer down. “You and Talia have been at the fox palace for a week,” he explained, his need to be close to his mate driving him insane. He had been deprived of seeing _everything_ Stiles—and that included Talia—and his wolf was restless because of it.

“I know,” Stiles instantly replied, his hands gently caressing Derek’s jaw, his fingertips grazing just across his beard. “And we’ve only shared a bed in order to sleep the week before that.” He recalled how often Derek would stumble into bed in the early hours of the morning, just finding sleep as Stiles was forced to wake.

“Do you have to remind me of that?” Derek groaned.

“But for the next few hours, and tonight,” Stiles started, placing small kisses across Derek’s face. “We can do whatever we want to each other. But first, you have to keep your eyes closed so you don’t ruin my surprise.”

Derek released a small chuckle before agreeing. He leaned in to kiss Stiles.

“Stiles, you’re back!” A familiar voice interrupted them.

“I’m going to kill him,” Derek lowly stated, moving to rest his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder.

“You can’t kill the head of my guard,” Stiles softly replied. He turned his head away from Derek, looking at the owner of the voice. “Scott, we’re busy.”

“But—” Scott’s eyes widened when he realized what he was interrupting. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just … Kira needs to speak with you. About some … Omega stuff.”

“Her heat?” Stiles arched his eyebrows in question.

“Yes,” Scott stated, a small blush forming. “Since we’re newly mated and it’s going to be our first together and all. She’s panicking. Boyd and Erica are going to cover our shifts since we covered theirs when their heats hit.”

Stiles suppressed a slightly amused sound as he recalled the way Erica had practically jumped Boyd when he entered the royal hall, their heats activating each other’s. He only agreed to not mentioning the scene again if Erica agreed to keep quiet about his heat-drunk-curtain-climbing incident that resulted in Deaton having to be called to make sure he hadn’t broken anything.

“Right,” Stiles finally sighed, feeling Derek’s body jerk from his scoff. “How about, I talk with Kira later, and Derek will also talk with you as well? Alpha-to-Alpha. That way you both feel better about it.”

Derek’s head immediately lifted to look at Stiles. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“Derek and I are busy right _now_ ,” Stiles replied, staring at Derek. “But we’ll find time to help you _later_.” He waggled his eyebrows at him, waiting for him to catch on.

“Right,” Derek stated, turning to look at Scott. “Later.”

“Okay,” Scott replied, ducking his head in embarrassment, knowing he interrupted them.

“Later,” Derek restated, opening the doors to his and Stiles’ bedroom, pushing Stiles in before closing the door behind them. He sighed, leaning against the doors as he relaxed some, closing his eyes in relief.

“I think we’re safe,” Stiles commented, pushing up against Derek as he slid his hands up his chest. “But you have to keep your eyes closed if you want your surprise,” he immediately stated when Derek started to open his eyes. He placed his hands over Derek’s eyes to keep him from seeing anything.

“Stiles—”

“Humor your mate,” Stile replied with a pout, knowing Derek could tell he was pouting despite being unable to see him.

“Fine,” Derek grumbled, offering his arm to Stiles so he could steer him.

“Thank you,” Stiles stated, placing a quick kiss against Derek’s lips. “It’s just over here. By the bed,” he elaborated as he pulled Derek after him, making sure he was careful to not bump into anything.

“Of course it is,” Derek commented.

Stiles ignored him as he situated Derek’s body to stand just by the foot of the bed. He released his hold on Derek, uttering a quick, “One second,” as he removed the blanket draped over his surprise to keep it hidden. He took a step back to stand beside Derek, smiling at the surprise. “Okay, you can look.”

Derek opened his eyes, first looking at Stiles, carefully observing him before turning his attention towards the intended surprise. His eyes widened as his mouth parted in surprise, his brain unable to form words. “You … You’re—” he stumbled for a complete thought, turning his head to look at Stiles.

Stiles was smiling, nodding to Derek’s incomplete question. “I found out this morning.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was suddenly heavy with fear. His eyes flickered over to the bassinet that once served as Talia’s bed when she was first born, except it now represented more of a threat to Derek than a sign of joy. “Are you going to be okay? Deaton said—”

“Hey,” Stiles reached his hands up to cup Derek’s face, turning his attention towards him. “I’m okay. I’m in great health, just like I was when we conceived Talia,” his voice was soft, gingerly walking Derek through the steps he had worried he would have to. “Deaton said we shouldn’t have a child right after Talia because of the strain. But it’s been five years, it will almost be six by the time the baby’s due.”

Derek weakly nodded in agreement. “I just can’t … I can’t handle you being hurt or in danger.”

“I know,” Stiles ran his thumb along Derek’s cheek, placing a small kiss in the corner of his mouth. “I know, and I am promising you, I’m going to be okay. We’re going to have another baby,” he released a small laugh when Derek finally released a laugh that was half-suppressed from his worry.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, pulling him into a tight hug as he pressed his face into the crook of his mate’s neck. He deeply breathed in his scent, just recognizing the change in his scent, similar to what occurred when Stiles was carrying Talia.

“Does this mean you’re happy?” Stiles gently whispered, uncertain how Derek would feel with such news.

Derek pulled back from Stiles, his hands moving to rest on Stiles’ hips as he observed his features. He moved his hand to capture Stiles’ ducked chin, forcing him to look up. He placed a chaste kiss against Stiles’ lips, gently pressing their foreheads together as he spoke. “Do you remember what I said to you the first night we shared together?”

Stiles nodded. “Not to talk about your knot while it was inside me,” he chortled halfway through his statement as Derek gave him his typical scowl.

There was no heat behind the scowl, only Derek’s struggle to suppress his own laughter at Stiles’ statement. He hadn’t expected Stiles to reply any differently.

“I’m joking,” Stiles immediately replied when Derek moved his hands to tickle his sides. “Joking!” He yelped as he grabbed Derek’s hands in his own. He waited until they were both calm—all tickling threats subsided—before he encircled his arms around Derek’s waist. “You told me you’d love any child I had.”

“And I meant it,” Derek replied. “I only worry about you.”

“I know,” Stiles replied. “But everything will be fine. I promise,” he stated, gently kissing Derek.

And Stiles was right, everything was perfect.

This time, Deaton presented them with a healthy baby boy. It took Stiles a little longer to heal than with Talia, but he healed just the same. He remained relaxing in bed, his fingers entwined with Derek’s as he drew his pain from him. He leaned into his mate, smiling as they both watched Talia tumble off the bed to look at her brother.

Talia was buzzing with excitement as she peered over the edge of her brother’s bassinet, smiling as she dangled Lord BaaBaa above him. She made the stuffed animal dance in the air, causing her brother to giggle and laugh at the object as he made grabby hands for it. She set Lord BaaBaa down in the bassinet before she moved to climb her way back up onto the bed, settling herself in Derek’s arms.

“Daddy, what did you name him?” Talia asked as she looked up at Derek.

“We haven’t named him yet,” Derek explained, shifting Talia in his lap in order to continue holding Stiles’ hand.

“What do you think we should name him?” Stiles asked Talia.

Talia’s lips pressed into a line as she lost herself in thought. “Um, I’m named after grandma, right?” She asked, leaning her head back to look up at Derek.

“Right,” Derek confirmed.

“And I look a lot like Daddy,” Talia stated.

“Hey, you have my eyes, kiddo,” Stiles poked her stomach, making her laugh.

“But my brother looks more like you, Papa,” Talia explained through her laughter.

“Oh he does, huh?” Stiles pretended to be skeptical, but he knew Talia was right.

His son was slightly paler than Talia had been as a baby, but with the promise of freckles and beauty marks to come with age. His hair was a little darker than Stiles, but still auburn in certain light. But he had inherited the Hale eyes: gorgeous orbs of green and blue, speckled with gold.

“We should name him after grandma,” Talia concluded.

“I don’t know if he’d appreciate being called Claudia,” Stiles mused, uncertain how his son would feel.

“Well, we could name him after your mother’s father,” Derek offered.

“He does kind of look like a Claus,” Stiles replied. A small frown flickered across his face as he thought about how nice it would be to honor the memory of his mother by naming his child after her.

Stiles wasn’t surprised when Derek answered his worried thoughts. “We can always name the next one Claudia,” Derek whispered, placing a kiss against Stiles’ temple.

“The next one, huh?” Stiles replied, a faint smile brushing across his lips. “I think I’d like some down time before I carry the next one,” he partially joked.

“Whatever you want,” Derek replied, placing a kiss to Stiles’ lips.

Talia hopped down from Derek’s lap, ignoring her parents as she made her way back over to the bassinet. “Baby Claus,” she stated to herself. She peered over the edge once more, smiling down at her sleeping brother. “Hi, Claus. I’m Talia, your sister. I can’t wait to play,” she reached down to hold his hand in hers as she spoke. “We’re going to have a lot of fun. We’re going to be best friends. And I’m going to protect you.”

Talia was ten, and Claus was four when he managed a full shift, presenting himself as a wolf. His fur was a burnt orange color, slightly darker than Stiles, a single front paw covered in black. His eyes flashed a vibrant orange, presenting himself as an Omega.

Talia ran beside her brother, encouraging him to run beside her as fast as he could, both of their parents following behind them. Claus playfully barked and nipped at his sister when she dashed in front of him. Talia happily yipped when her brother finally caught up to her.

Even at their young ages, they were able to see beyond what their species’ biology and history told them. Claus shared his portion of the kill with Talia, just as Talia offered up the bone to Claus. Talia never flashed her eyes at Claus, welcoming her brother’s challenges, both playful and serious. They often clashed heads, but always managed to broker an understanding in the end, much to their parents’ approval.

They were an Alpha and an Omega that saw each other as equals. They were a fox and a wolf, understanding that the stories they heard as children were true, legacies about their parents and the peace they managed to make. A legacy they both gladly continued to carry as they walked in their parents’ footsteps, continuing the golden reign of peace—the Reign of the Fox and the Wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference:
> 
> Talia as a fox: ([x](https://p.gr-assets.com/540x540/fit/hostedimages/1379783002/440146.jpg))
> 
> Claus as a wolf: ([x](http://www.zooborns.com/.a/6a010535647bf3970b0120a78dcc23970b-800wi))
> 
> And so you can have feels from a visual of what wolf!Derek would look like carrying fox!Talia: ([x](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/a6/43/21/a643212b7448f5ad3240892f530e8271.jpg))

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [drunklightning](http://drunklightning.tumblr.com) is my blog where I reblog anything I find of interest.
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.
> 
> [Send](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/ask) me any prompts you think you'd like to have me write!


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